Illusions and Hallucinations
by Sophia Hawkins
Summary: Sequel to "Movies and Mayhem". The A-Team's family structure is threatened when something's wrong with Hannibal, and the others struggle with their own plan to get help for their leader, their colonel, their father.
1. Chapter 1

Illusions and Hallucinations

Author's note: I want to make it clear that I am not taking a break from The Murdock and the Mudsucker; but I am finding it more difficult to effectively put the A-Team in a murder mystery scenario than originally planned, so I've decided to run this story alongside it so there'll be something new to read while I continue to work on the updates for the first story. A word of warning to the readers, this is going to be quite different from the two previous stories in the Brutus series, so reviews are highly appreciated here so I'll know what everybody thinks of it. Hope you enjoy!

Face tried to read the sign on the road up ahead when the headlight shone on it in the dark, but it passed by in a blur and as the van sped up he felt the whole vehicle starting to skid to one side. "Murdock, watch out!" he warned the man driving, "You're going to run us off the road entirely!"

"I'm sorry, Face," Murdock replied, "I just want to make sure that we lost the men in green and don't have to worry about them sneaking up on us again."

"Well don't do that again," Face said, "You get this thing going too fast, we're going to get top heavy and roll over, we don't need that happening."

"I know," Murdock told him.

They heard a low growling moan coming from the back of the van and Face turned in his seat and said, "Sorry about that, B.A."

"Tell that fool to hurry up and find a doctor," B.A. told Face, "It's getting worse."

Murdock whispered to Face, "We just lost the army, we _can't_ risk getting to a doctor, somebody would report us and we'd be surrounded before we could get out."

"Well Murdock," Face told him, "He's only gotten worse since the last time we stopped anywhere, where're we going to take him?"

"What about Maggie Sullivan?" Murdock asked.

Face caught sight of the next road sign they passed and he shook his head, "Not an option, we're too far from Bad Rock to make it quick enough. The way I see it, we don't need to get him to a doctor so much as we just need to find some place to stop for the night; if he can actually rest then that's going to make all the difference."

"The question is where?" Murdock asked.

"Yeah," Face agreed through gritted teeth, "If a hospital would report us, so would a motel probably."

They could hear the moaning coming from the back of the van and knew they didn't have a lot of choices, and they didn't have a lot of time either.

"What're we going to do, Murdock?" Face asked.

Murdock shook his head gloomily for a minute as he tried to think, and then, he almost stomped on the brakes when the idea hit him. "I know, we can stop off at Jean's house."

"Jean?" Face repeated.

It had been almost two months since any of them had last seen Murdock's wife, Jean Rhodes, though they had been in and out of Los Angeles for six of those eight weeks.

"You think that's a good idea?" Face asked.

"Sure," Murdock looked at him, "Why wouldn't it be? You know she always said if we needed a place to hide out, to let her know, well now we do."

Face picked up the phone, "I'll call ahead and see if she's even there. It might be easier if we break the news to her _before_ storming into her driveway. I just hope she's there tonight."

Face counted the seconds between the rings, on the third ring he heard the receiver being picked up and heard a very familiar voice answer tiredly, "Hello?"

"Jean," he said, wanting to make sure they weren't interrupting anything before he dropped this bombshell on her.

There was a slight pause before the woman on the other end of the line answered, "Hey Face, what's up?"

"Jean, is there someone staying at your house tonight?"

"Just me, why?"

"We're going to be coming in and making an emergency stop there. Is that offer to stay with you still good?"

Again a small pause before she responded, "What's going on, Face?"

He hesitated for a second before answering, "I'll tell you, Jean, but we need to know if we can come in, it'll help if you can be at the door ready when we get there."

"What happened?" Jean asked.

Face wished more than anything that he didn't have to say this. "There's something wrong with Hannibal."

* * *

The outside lights were on and Jean was hopping down the porch steps as soon as the van came up the block. She ran out to the driveway where Murdock pulled up at an above normal speed and suddenly hit the brakes. He and Face were the first ones out and went around to the back to help B.A.

"What happened?" Jean asked Face as they went around to get the back doors open.

"It's a long story," Face told her, "We need to get him inside before somebody hears him."

Murdock got the doors open and had his arms out like he was waiting to catch a fly ball, "Okay B.A., we're here, you can get him unloaded now."

"About time," B.A. said as Murdock took one end of the makeshift stretcher they'd put together and the two carried Hannibal out, but not without any trouble. The stretcher hadn't been made just to carry Hannibal on, in the porch light Jean saw leather hospital restraints around his wrists confining them high above his head, _and_ his ankles at the bottom of it, and he was struggling against them, screaming at them to let him go.

"You tied him up?" she asked.

"We had to," Murdock answered, "He won't listen to anybody, he's becoming a potential threat to himself."

Jean ran up and got the door open as they hauled Hannibal in and as they carried him into the living room she could hear the older man screaming something at the others though she couldn't make out what it was. She joined them in the living room and saw B.A. and Murdock set Hannibal on the floor for a moment.

"Let me go," Hannibal told them as he struggled against his restraints, "Get me out of here!"

B.A. huffed and asked Jean, "This couch pull out?"

"Yeah," she said as she helped Face take the cushions off and pull out the hide-a-bed.

Murdock helped B.A. lift the stretcher up and put it on the mattress of the pull-out bed and each undid a set of Hannibal's restraints and tipped the stretcher over so he fell off of it and onto the bed.

"It's about time!" Hannibal told them as he tried to get up, "What was the big idea?"

"What's wrong with him?" Jean asked.

"He's sick," Face answered.

"That's a lie," Hannibal told him, "I'm not sick, now let me up!"

Face ignored their colonel and, turning to Jean he asked her, "You got a thermometer around here that we could prove it?"

"In the junk drawer in the kitchen," she answered, "I'll get it."

"I'll help you," Murdock said as he followed after her.

Jean had only gotten out of his sight for a couple of seconds, but when he found her in the kitchen standing by the drawers under the counter, he could see she was shaking. Jean didn't know Hannibal as well as the others did but she knew him well enough to know he _never_ acted anything like this, and he imagined it was just as much a shock to her as it had been to them.

"What happened to him, Murdock?" she asked as she fished through the drawer.

"Well you know how Hannibal is," he started to explain, "He'd _never_ tell anybody when he's not feeling well. We noticed the last couple of days that he was acting…different, shall we say? Very un-Hannibal-like, and we didn't know what it was, then we found out he's got a high fever. He's been going in and out of delirium, sometimes he doesn't know who we are, or where _he_ is, and the last time he tried to get out of the van while we were going 95 miles an hour, we _had_ to restrain him before he got himself killed."

"Has this ever happened before?" Jean asked.

"Oh I'm sure he's been sick before," Murdock told her, "But he never lets on when we're around. I never really thought about it but I guess he lucked out and only got sick when we weren't on a mission and he was able to rest…but even so I don't think he ever got like this."

"And of course taking him to a doctor is out of the question," she said as she finally found the thermometer.

"Until further notice, yes," he replied, "We just got away from the military police again."

"Never a dull moment with you guys," Jean noted as they went back to the living room.

Hannibal apparently didn't have the strength to pull himself up and actually fight anybody, but as he lay against the flat mattress of the couch's interior, he looked up at B.A. and Face and alternated between who he yelled at that they were crazy and that there wasn't anything wrong with him.

"We'll see about that, Hannibal," Jean said as she walked over to him, "I trust you remember us being in a very similar position to this, only_ you_ were the one playing doctor, and I was your unwilling patient, remember?" He made no sign of acknowledgement of what she said and she told him, "Open your mouth, Hannibal."

He glared up at her and just stared at Jean for a minute, then, reluctantly, he opened his mouth. She stuck the thermometer in under his tongue and warned him, "Don't bite down on that, it's not a cigar."

Hannibal sneered at her and spoke over the thermometer but it was too muffled to be understood. When enough time had passed, Jean took the thermometer out and showed it to Face, "103 degrees." At that, Hannibal started to admit defeat and slumped back against the mattress.

Face took a step back and asked, "What're we going to do now?"

"We could chance the hospital," Jean said, "One of us could keep an eye on the administration nurse to make sure she doesn't call out to anyone."

"We _could_," Face agreed, and shook his head, "But I don't like it. We could be walking into a trap if we did that."

"We could keep him here until further notice and monitor him," Murdock told the others, "And if he shows any sign of getting worse then we _will_ take him to the hospital."

"A fever of that temperature can be treated without doctors, I'm sure?" Jean asked.

Face said only, "I don't remember much but I'm told I had a few of them that high or higher during Vietnam," he shuddered as he recalled, "And there were no doctors to help at that time..._nobody_ was there to help. But we survived, so it can be done."

"Like all other things, just not comfortably," she replied.

Face turned to Jean and asked, "Do you have anything we can give him for his fever?"

She shrugged, "I usually don't keep much medicine in the house, but there's probably some stuff in the kitchen."

"I'll get it," Face said as he cut through the dining room to the kitchen.

"Two days like this?" Jean asked Murdock.

"It's been a gradual process," Murdock explained, "First he just got short with everybody and was always blowing his top at every little thing, always screaming at us if we didn't do something right or get it exactly like he said to, then it progressed until he was ready to chew us up and spit us out if we didn't agree with his plan. But we didn't really catch on that something was wrong until we realized he hadn't gone through any cigars since the day before."

Jean nodded, "_That's_ a bad sign alright."

She felt his forehead with the back of her hand, Hannibal's eyes were closed and he almost looked asleep, but he responded to the touch and leaned into it for a second and grumbled something under his breath.

"Well I guess we better get him out of these heavy clothes," Jean said as she reached for his coat.

"I'll do that," Murdock told her, "He might hurt you. You get his boots off, and be careful because he might kick."

Jean shook her head and said, "I never heard of a fever making anybody a split personality."

Murdock shrugged and replied, "Some people get dangerous when they're sick, when they don't feel well they become a threat towards others in a defense mechanism."

"What is that, hangover from Vietnam?" Jean asked.

"No, just basic human nature in some people," he answered.

"But Hannibal?" she responded.

By now some of the fight had left the colonel so he didn't resist much when Murdock pulled his jacket off of him, and Jean managed to get his heavy boots off without too much incidence. Then Murdock got Hannibal out of his long shirt and the only thing he had on underneath was a white undershirt that had clearly seen better days. As Murdock got one of the couch cushions settled behind him to prop his head up on, Jean pressed her hand against Hannibal's arm and felt the heat in it as well. When she pulled her hand away she looked at a circle on his arm that was whiter than the rest of his skin and she asked, "What's that, bullet wound?"

"No, smallpox vaccine," Murdock answered, "They never go away, and they're worse when you get a second dosage in the army."

Jean looked at him and asked, "You got one too?"

"I do, but you can't see it," he answered.

Face came back with a bottle of ibuprofen and some water and he managed to get Hannibal to swallow a couple of the pills. After that he settled back against the cushion and seemed to go to sleep.

"I think he'll probably sleep through the night," Jean said, then looked at her watch and said, "I know it's late but did you guys manage to get anything to eat earlier?"

"We're fine," Face answered.

"Then I guess everybody can turn in," she said, "You'll find your rooms pretty much the way they were the last time you were here."

It was obvious that Face and B.A. were both exhausted and about ready to drop, and were glad to finally have a chance to stop running for the night. B.A. took the downstairs guest room and Face went to call dibs on one upstairs, only Murdock remained and he sat next to the hide-a-bed and kept his eyes on Hannibal.

"Hey Murdock," Jean jerked her thumb towards the ceiling, "You can go on to bed too, I'll keep an eye on him."

Murdock kept his eyes glued on the Colonel and told Jean, "That's alright, I'll stay right here."

Jean didn't say anything and just nodded, then she said, "Alright, I'll stay up too."

"You don't have to do that," he said.

"Well I like him too," she replied as she sat down in the chair beside him, "So tell me what you guys have been up to, and where does Decker come into the equation again?"

Murdock spent a couple of hours telling Jean about their missions and escapades from the past few weeks, but through it all his voice was monotone and his eyes never left the sleeping Colonel. Jean looked at Hannibal now and then, trying to see what it was Murdock was watching so intensely, but she didn't see anything. All she saw was a sick, middle aged man who was getting the first rest he'd had in several days. Hannibal _did_ appear to be in poor shape, but Jean was sure this wasn't the first time _that_ had happened, maybe just the first time, or the first time in a long time, that his men had seen him this way. It was definitely the first time she'd seen him like this; for no longer than she had known Hannibal, the man always looked like he was in control, and always acted as such. He was never left in a position of vulnerability, but the way he looked now seemed to be a testament to the saying the bigger they are, the harder they fall. Hannibal was always on the top of everything, and now he had slipped, and when he fell, he _fell_.

* * *

Murdock was already wide awake the next morning when Jean woke up; he didn't look like he'd ever gone to sleep the night before, he never left the chair by Hannibal's bedside, he had never stopped watching the man. Jean sat up in the chair she'd fallen asleep draped over the arms of, and got to her feet and said, quietly so she didn't get the whole house up, "Murdock."

"Mm?" he grunted.

"Murdock," she said a bit louder.

"Eh?" he finally turned his head to look at her.

"Go on to bed," Jean told him, "I'll watch him."

She didn't have any idea what in the world she was supposed to be watching or watching for, but she thought it might convince Murdock to finally leave the living room and get a few hours' sleep.

"Yeah, okay," he replied as he stood up. Jean heard him groan and it was obvious he had to have been sitting up all night in one position the whole time.

Jean watched as Murdock left the room and heard him go up the stairs; once he was gone she went over to the hide-a-bed and looked at Hannibal up close to see if he was still asleep or if he was just playing possum.

"Hannibal," she said quietly, and when he didn't respond she got closer and said his name a little louder, still no answer, so she got right next to his face and asked, "Are you in there?" Still no answer, so she tried again, "I know you're alive, I can hear you breathing."

But it seemed that nothing was going to wake the Colonel up until he was ready to wake up. Jean felt his forehead again, the fever was still there. She cursed under her breath, this wasn't looking good. On one hand, ever since Hannibal stopped accusing his Teammates of mutiny, he didn't seem to be displaying any symptoms to offer any insight as to what was wrong. All the same, Jean went over to the bookshelf on the opposite wall and picked up an at-home medical book she'd had for a few years and started looking through it to see if she could find anything that might be of any use to them.

* * *

Face had been blissfully lost in a deep sleep, having a nice dream about a beautiful woman he had recently met, when suddenly he felt himself caught in the middle of an earthquake. He realized that it wasn't a part of the dream and he opened his eyes and saw that Murdock was the cause for him being shaken like a rag doll in a dog's mouth.

"Murdock, what's going on?" he asked as he sat up, "What's wrong? Is it Hannibal?"

"Hannibal's still asleep," Murdock told him as he let go of the lieutenant.

Face stared at him wide eyed, "_Hannibal_'s asleep so you decided to wake _me_ up? Why?"

Murdock stepped onto the bed and asked Face, "Do you think Hannibal's going to be alright, Facey?"

"Oh of course he is, Murdock," he answered, "It's probably just the flu or something like that."

"You think so?" Murdock asked.

Face didn't like this line of questioning, especially this early in the morning, and he was anxious to change the subject, "Yeah, it happens all the time."

"But people die of the flu, don't they, Face?" he asked.

"In the 1916 pandemic maybe," Face told him, "But not today, you're in bed for a couple days, you spend two weeks hacking up stuff, and then you're back to normal."

"But what if it isn't the flu?" Murdock asked, "What if it's something else?"

"Like what, Murdock?"

"Well, like some tropical disease," Murdock told him.

"Murdock, we haven't been anywhere _near_ the tropics," Face said.

"That doesn't matter," Murdock said, "People can still get them and never even go to the tropics, they can die from them."

"Murdock," Face was trying to stay calm and trying to get Murdock to do the same thing, "Hannibal is not going to die, he just needs to get some rest."

"I hope you're right, Faceman," Murdock said, but he didn't sound convinced.

* * *

Hannibal felt the sunlight on his eyelids and he forced one eye open to look around because he couldn't even remember where he was, and then opened the other eye to get a better look. They were in a house now, he didn't remember coming into it, and he didn't know whose it was. Then he saw the woman asleep in the chair beside him and he remembered, rather he remembered this was Jean's home, but he didn't remember coming here. He sat up and pulled the sheet with him, and he managed to croak out, "Jean?"

At the mention of her name, Jean's eyes popped open and she sat up, "Hannibal, you're awake."

"Yeah," he said, "What's going on?"

"You're sick," she said, "At least that's what I'd guess. They brought you in last night and said you were delirious, didn't know who they were."

"They…Face, B.A.?"

"Yeah, they're around," she said, and pointed, "B.A.'s in the spare room down here, and Face and Murdock are upstairs. Do you remember anything from last night?"

"Last night?" he asked, "What's today?"

"It's Sunday," she answered.

"Sunday?" Hannibal wracked his brain and tried to remember what the last day he could remember was, "I don't even remember what happened on Friday. I remember on Thursday we were driving back from that church in South Carolina…but after that I don't remember anything."

"Well since you're awake now, you can take your medicine again," Jean reached over and handed him a glass of water and two more pills, "You got a high fever and we're trying to bring it down without any outside intervention."

Hannibal tiredly nodded and swallowed the pills. When that was done, Jean asked him how he was feeling in general, and wasn't shy about the fact she was asking to run a comparison to some of the diseases she'd been reading about in the medical book. Hannibal answered that for the most part he just felt tired, and wanted to go back to sleep. Jean didn't let on but this worried her, she knew Hannibal Smith well enough to know he only let on to things that bothered him; and when that happened he could be sarcastic, cynical, spiteful, on rare occasions even downright mean, but he _never_ let on to when something was wrong with him, he _never _said when he needed to rest. But she agreed that it would probably be the best thing for him, so she took the pillow from behind his head, fluffed it up and put it back into place and let him lie back down and go back to sleep.

"Thanks, Jean," he tiredly murmured as he closed his eyes, "You're a good kid." He reached over with his left arm and Jean wasn't sure what he was reaching for, but he patted her stomach with his hand, then turned on his side and went to sleep.

Once he was out cold, Jean stood up and went over to the wall where a framed portrait of her mother hung on a nail and wire; she took the photo off the wall and turned the wire so the frame spun around, revealing a gun conveniently hidden behind it. She ripped the small pieces of tape that held the gun into place and slipped it down the waistband of her jeans. Then she replaced the portrait and pulled her shirt down over the top of her jeans so the gun wasn't visible, she just hoped Murdock didn't try hugging her later. It was obvious that Hannibal was in no condition right now to fight, and definitely in no condition to come up with a plan. So if Decker or Lynch or any of the army men came to her door today, she would make sure they didn't gain entrance to Hannibal; she would make sure of that by any means necessary. In the meantime, she knew at least two men would be up soon so she went into the kitchen to start on breakfast.

* * *

"Maybe you guys ought to get out of here for a while," Jean told Face later that morning, "If Decker manages to pick up the trail, he'll be here and he's going to be looking for you guys."

"What would you do if he did?" Face asked.

Jean didn't answer that. Instead she said, "If I have to, I can get Hannibal to the hospital, and if _I_ take him in, maybe nobody would make the connection. I can always say he's my grandfather."

"No," Murdock said, drawing everybody's attention, "We're staying _right_ here. We don't leave unless Hannibal goes with us."

Jean raised her hands in surrender, "Just a thought, but in the meantime, get B.A. to move the van into the garage, no sense in advertising your presence."

"I'll go tell him," Murdock said, and headed to the living room.

Jean leaned over to Face and asked him, "What do you think is wrong with Hannibal?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted, "Murdock's worried Hannibal's going to die."

"Oh Hannibal isn't going to die," Jean replied.

"Well you know that and I know that," Face told her, "But what about Murdock?"

Jean looked at him and said, "Murdock will _never_ die."

"You know what I mean," Face said, "I've never seen him this worried about Hannibal before."

"Maybe there's a good reason for that," Jean thought, "Incidentally when was the last time Hannibal was in a hospital?"

Face shrugged and said, "A couple years ago when we were in a helicopter crash."

Jean stared at him. They went into the living room and woke Hannibal up to take his temperature again.

"102," Face said and shook his head, "It's taking its time to go down."

"We'll try the traditional route and chill it out of him," Jean replied, "But if that doesn't work then we have to try sweating it out and if _that_ doesn't work, _then_ we gotta get him to the hospital."

"You've done this before?" Face inquired.

"Just on myself," she answered, "After all the times I've been in the hospital I usually avoid the place like the plague, I prefer staying at home and I'm a firm believer in self treatments…but I'm not sure I'd recommend the same for Hannibal. But you know him better than I do, what do you think?"

Face leaned over Hannibal and practically got in his face to see what the Colonel would do; Hannibal turned his head and opened one eye and smiled weakly at the Lieutenant, saying only, "Hi, Face," then he fell back asleep.

"We'll wait," Face told her, and added to himself, but not for long.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey Faceman," B.A. said, "I don't know who's gonna need the hospital worse, Hannibal, or that crazy fool Murdock."

"Why, what's he doing now?" Face asked.

B.A. pointed back to the living room, "He watching Hannibal like a hawk, he ain't left that chair for three hours."

"He did the same thing all night," Jean told them, "That's how he was when I finally fell asleep around three, and he was still like that when I woke up this morning. I don't get it," she told Face, "All four of you guys have been in pretty poor condition at _some_ time or another, so why's he so worried about Hannibal now?"

"Like he said, Hannibal's never gotten _this_ bad before," Face said, "Even in Vietnam he never got delirious to the point he didn't know us."

"Well what do you think that is?" Jean asked.

"I don't know," Face replied, "But whatever it was, it seems to be gone now."

"But the fever remains," Jean said, "A fever can cause delirium but it doesn't make sense it's gone now when his fever's still as strong as ever. Or does it?" They looked at each other at that thought and Jean elaborated, "Murdock said Hannibal was snapping at you guys for two days, maybe that's when he started losing it, if that's the case isn't it possible that his fever was higher in the beginning?"

"It's possible but I don't know how likely," Face said.

"But it _is_ possible," Jean insisted, "He might've been at 104 or 105, we don't know, if that's the case and we can keep his fever going down then he should be alright, whatever it is."

"Yeah whatever it is…" Face repeated dryly, then something occurred to him and he smacked himself for not thinking of it sooner.

"What is it?" B.A. asked.

"Whatever it is," he said again stiffly, he looked at B.A. and said, "_Whatever it is_, just because he wasn't leaving a blood trail behind him when we left doesn't mean the fever didn't come from an injury he might've sustained when we escaped from Decker and his pals."

Jean peered in the living room, then looked back to the two men and said, "We're going to have to get Murdock out of there for you two to examine him. If he sticks around for that he's really going to think Hannibal might die."

"Well you're his wife," Face said, as if that was a solution

"Temporarily," she reminded him.

He pointed at her, "You should be able to come up with something to keep him occupied while we examine Hannibal."

"I'll try," was all she could promise, "But I wouldn't count on that meaning anything, you guys mean more to him than I do."

Face felt like he'd just been run through with a jagged shard of ice. That sounded eerily familiar to something Hannibal had said not long after they had announced their marriage.

They went into the living room and all of them took notice of how closely Murdock was watching the sleeping Colonel, he didn't even notice any of them entering the room and he about jumped when Jean put her hands on his shoulders to get his attention.

"Murdock," she said, "I need your help with something."

"Me?" he asked, "What?"

"Remember leaving a certain little dog here a couple months ago?" Jean asked.

"Billy!"

"That's right," she said with no enthusiasm, completely counteracting his own expression, "That dog has chewed up every table leg in this house, I thought you said he was past this stage."

"Well he should be," Murdock said as he stood up, "Where is he?"

"Upstairs under the bed, chewing up the carpeting now," she said as she took his hand and led him out of the room, "Follow me."

Face waited until they were up the stairs before he said what was on his mind, "I think Jean had the right idea with her first codename, anybody that _could_ be married to Murdock and put up with that stuff would _have_ to be a saint."

B.A. grunted and replied, "Saint of stupidity more like it. That sucker been released from the hospital two months now and he's still crazy."

"Aw but you would worry about him if he wasn't," Face reminded him.

B.A.'s only response to that was a low growl as he glared at Face, enough that he took the hint to back away, and he did.

"Come on," Face said, "Let's see if Hannibal's been keeping anything vital from us."

* * *

"Billy, now don't you give me that sad face, you know better than that," Murdock said as he carried Billy out from where he had been hiding under the bed, "You're not a puppy anymore, you're too old to be acting like this." He held the dog in one arm and spanked him with his free hand, only lightly though, "Bad, bad boy, I told you to behave while I was gone, and this is what you do instead?"

Jean watched him and tried not to laugh. Murdock put Billy down and sent him out of the room and told him just for that, he would be going to bed tonight without any of B.A.'s sweat socks to chew on.

"I am sorry about that, Jean," Murdock told her as he sat down beside her, "I guess Billy's just been acting out because I haven't been here lately."

"Yeah well, I can see that," she replied.

Murdock's gaze shifted to the floor for a second, he knew he'd been putting this off as long as he could. He looked up at her and said, "Yeah I guess you can…I'm sorry I haven't been around sooner. I know I should've come back to see you when we first got back to town…"

Jean shrugged dismissively, "It's alright…I haven't exactly had my days filled but I've managed to keep busy while you were gone."

Murdock saw some papers lying on the dresser and he grabbed them and said, "I see we've still got this to take care of." But he stopped when he realized that they weren't the annulment papers they'd started to fill out right before he left.

Jean looked at the papers and started to open her mouth, but she decided against saying what she had planned to. Murdock looked over the papers and saw they were letters; addressed to Jean, and signed by people whose names looked very familiar: Daniel Running Bear, Toby Griffin, Jacqueline Taylor, and the president of the Beller Air Airline. Murdock looked over to Jean and asked her, "Why are our old clients writing to you?"

"Because I wrote them first and asked them to," Jean answered, "I want to know if they're interested in writing the president and telling him all about what you guys did for them. When I was in the hospital I told Decker I was going to find some way to get the guys a presidential pardon, I'm _still_ working on it."

"Well how did you find out where they were?" Murdock asked her.

"I have my methods," she said coyly.

"I see," Murdock replied as he glanced over the letters again, "Do you think it'll work?"

"It's worth a try," she told him, "Isn't it?"

He considered it and told her, "I don't suppose it can do any harm. Of course it could backfire and they could all face legal actions for aiding and abetting fugitives of the United States government."

"I know," Jean said, "So could I. I asked them, and the ones I've heard back from so far say they _would_ be willing to give it a try. I figure if I can get enough of them to go to bat for you guys, the odds of it working would probably be better."

"True," he replied, "There is safety in numbers. It's a lot harder to tell a whole mob 'no' instead of just one person."

"That's the idea," Jean said, "If you're going to take on the army, you need one of your own. But don't tell the others, I don't want to get their hopes up yet incase it doesn't work."

"Your dirty little secrets are always safe with me," Murdock told her.

* * *

"Well we know Hannibal wasn't shot, he wasn't stabbed, he wasn't impaled with anything," Face told Jean later that afternoon as they were gathered in her kitchen, "It would seem that his fever was _not_ brought on by any injuries so we lucked out there."

"And unfortunately," she replied, "Murdock has parked himself right by Hannibal's side again and I don't think he's going to move until Hannibal wakes up and can speak coherently. And how long do you think that's going to be?"

Face didn't want to think about that. "So what're we going to do?"

"He didn't get _any_ sleep last night," Jean reminded him, "He can't _possibly_ last again tonight, can he?"

Face laughed a couple of times and said, "You really _don't_ know Murdock, do you? He can do anything he sets his mind to."

"But how long can he keep his eyes open?" Jean remarked, "Eventually he's going to have to wear down for the night sometime."

Face slowly nodded and said, "I hope you're right, but I don't know." He turned to the other man in the room and asked him, "What do you think, B.A.?"

On the surface, B.A. looked like he hadn't been paying attention to their conversation, but Face knew him better than that.

"I got one idea that'll put him to sleep," B.A. answered.

"What's that?" Face asked.

"They don't call it the sleeper hold for nothing," B.A. told him.

"That won't work, B.A.," Face responded, "You keep forgetting how strong you are, you'll break his neck."

He felt a finger in his shoulder and he turned around to see what Jean wanted, she pointed to herself in answer. Face shook his head, "That won't work either, _you_ could kill him too, you're not strong like B.A. is, but you're psychotic enough for it." She said nothing but the look she gave him spoke plenty for her when he said that. Then another thought occurred to him, "Jean, do you have any sleeping pills?"

"You know I never take those things," she said.

"You don't even keep a bottle on hand for guests?" Face asked.

"This _might_ be Hollywood but I'm not into that freaky stuff," Jean told him.

"Speaking of which," he said, "Do you have to be in at the studio tomorrow morning?"

Jean shook her head, "I'm currently in the line of blissful unemployment."

"I see," Face remarked, "Then I guess that movie we put together didn't do any good, huh?"

"Oh a little," she answered, "Hannibal was right, word of mouth made it _very_ popular and because of that I was picked for a couple of small roles that actually _talk_ in the movies. It's nothing solid but it was work, I can't complain. $500 a week wasn't good enough for the 3 Stooges back in the 1930s but ironically enough it's good enough for me in the here and now."

"Glad to hear it." Though there was something Face didn't like about what she had said, he didn't like the way she'd said 'Hannibal _was_'; he knew what Jean meant but he didn't like the idea of their Colonel being referred to in a past tense.

"Another thing, Face," Jean said, "Murdock's been fed so many pills over the years at the V.A., sleeping pills probably wouldn't even have any effect on him. Or they might have a reverse effect and just keep him up all the longer."

"Well we better come up with something," Face said, "We all need to get our sleep tonight, and unfortunately Murdock has a terrible habit of making sure nobody else sleeps when he doesn't."

"He won't do that this time," Jean shook her head, "He won't leave Hannibal's side…maybe that's it, if we told him we'd all take turns keeping an eye on Hannibal he might relax and he might willingly go to sleep tonight."

"What do you think, B.A.?" Face turned to the larger man.

"It's worth a try," B.A. answered, "It ain't the first time we slept in shifts."

* * *

Hannibal's throat was sore from dryness, his mouth felt like cotton and his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. He managed to peel his tongue back and open his lips that had stuck together during the night, and opened his eyes and saw Face and B.A. standing over him, and he guessed from the light shining in the windows that it was morning.

"Hey Hannibal, how're you feeling?" Face asked.

Hannibal grabbed the glass of water left on the inn table by the bed and drank half of it before answering, "I'm alright, what's going on?"

"You don't remember?" Face asked, "You spent all night waking up and going back to sleep, and taking about a dozen pills to lower your fever. Which incidentally, I'm going to have to check again."

Hannibal didn't have any idea what Face was talking about but he complied, he opened his mouth and waited for the thermometer to make its find. When Face pulled it back he squinted to read the number, "Still at 102, at least it's down from what it was."

Hannibal looked around the room and realized B.A. and Face were the only two people there and he asked, "Where're Murdock, and Jean?"

"He's with her," Face answered, "And she is in the bathroom throwing up."

"Why, you try and kiss her?" B.A. asked and chuckled.

"No," Face replied, glaring at B.A. through one eye, he told Hannibal, "Apparently last night she and Murdock stayed up all night and stuffed themselves on popcorn and chocolate chip mint ice cream," he made a face at the very thought of that, "And apparently Murdock can hold his far better than she can."

Face wasn't sure what to make of the look on Hannibal's face, for some reason the older man seemed to be grinning at something.

"Hannibal, are you sure you're feeling alright?" Face asked.

"I'm fine," Hannibal said as he lay back against the pillow, "I just need to get some sleep."

B.A. and Face turned to each other and without a word exchanged between them, wondered what they should do now. Hannibal had already spent a better part of the last two days asleep, waking up only to swallow more pills, and in fact he hadn't even eaten anything since they'd arrived at the house. They'd managed to keep him awake long enough last night for Jean to ask him but he answered that he wasn't hungry and just went back to sleep. They had let Murdock take the first watch while the other three sat in the kitchen and discussed what they were going to do next. Jean had brought up something else; Murdock had mentioned the possibility of a tropical disease even though they hadn't been to the tropics, and she questioned if malaria might be a possibility. Face had responded that like all things, it was possible, but not likely. That was the problem, anything that could explain what was wrong with him didn't seem to fit what he actually had, and none of them were sure what the answer was.

With Hannibal asleep again, Face and B.A. quietly backed out of the living room and joined Murdock and Jean in the kitchen.

"Any better?" Jean asked.

"His fever's still at 102," Face said, "So he's doing better than he was a couple of days ago…I don't know, maybe he _does_ just need to rest."

He inhaled, and he looked around the room and asked, "What's that smell?"

Everybody looked at him like he'd lost his mind, and Jean asked him, "What smell?"

He looked at her in surprise, "You can't smell that?"

"Smell _what_?" she asked.

Face couldn't answer what it was, he _knew_ what it was but he couldn't put the words with it. After a minute he realized why he couldn't explain it; he wasn't smelling anything, he was noticing a smell that wasn't there, an odor he had known so well for so long and now it wasn't there anymore…Hannibal's cigars. It had been three days since Hannibal had smoked any cigars, and the withdrawal of that stench had suddenly hit Face like a ton of bricks. He realized why the others hadn't noticed; Murdock had been in and out of the V.A. for so many years where smoking wasn't allowed because it was a hospital, Jean didn't smoke and nobody who did, except for Hannibal, ever came to her home, and B.A. spent as much time away from the team as he did with them, the smell wasn't a part of his everyday life. It was for Face's because he spent the most time with Hannibal of them all when they weren't all together, and even if Hannibal wasn't there, Face always kept a box of his cigars on hand for the Colonel, and the last few days he hadn't even had that for the fragrance to linger around him.

* * *

Murdock wasn't posted at Hannibal's side today like he had been the day before; today he was able to get up and walk around the house and talk to the others. But the problem was it became his substitute for hovering over Hannibal, and he talked about anything that was of any relevance to anything, and when he ran out of those topics to talk about, he just started stammering on about nothing in particular. And he never stopped pacing around the house, back and forth, back and forth, they could probably set their watches by him. They tried to get him to sit down and try to relax, but nothing would work, Murdock just paced around back and forth, seemingly quicker every time he came back around, as did his mindless ramblings. Everybody knew that he was just worried about Hannibal and trying to cover it but it didn't work. Not that it mattered anyway because not only did everyone know what was on his mind, they were all sharing the same thoughts, they just didn't bother telling one another. Face wasn't sure which was the sadder sight to watch, Hannibal sick and helpless, or Murdock slowly losing his mind all over again.

Tension was already high and B.A. was gradually becoming increasingly furious with Murdock, though he had put off saying anything or doing anything about it, until it reached a point he just couldn't take it anymore. He stood up from the table and started yelling at Murdock to shut up, to stop moving back and forth, to stop everything that he was doing because he was getting on all their nerves, his especially; and started sounded off on a dozen various threats of what he was going to do to Murdock if he didn't shut up, but the pilot paid him no mind and continued walking back and forth from the kitchen down to the front hall and back.

"B.A.," Jean said as she stood up from the kitchen table, "If I got him to shut up, would _you_ do the same thing, please?"

He didn't answer that but he did ask her, "What're you going to do?"

"Just watch me," Jean said as she picked up the broom from the corner of the kitchen and walked out after Murdock.

Face and B.A. looked at each other as they wondered what she was going to do, and then they got their answer when they heard Murdock get hit on the head, and him screaming, quickly cut off and muffled and they saw Jean walk back into the kitchen carrying the broom over her shoulder and Murdock following behind with the tip of the wooden handle in his mouth and poking against the inside of his cheek.

"Who says the 3 Stooges ain't educational?" Jean asked as she withdrew the broom handle from his mouth and told him, "Murdock, you've got to try and calm down, we're _all_ on edge here, we're _all_ worried about Hannibal, but this isn't helping anybody."

"Yeah, Murdock," Face stepped in, "You're going to have to find another outlet for your tension."

"I tried that already," Murdock said, and took off his baseball cap and showed them the scabs where he'd scratched his head until it bled.

"Oh Murdock," Jean said pitiably as she put her arms around him.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Face said as he reached and put a hand on Murdock's shoulder to get his attention, "We've got to bring Hannibal's fever down, right? Jean said we need to chill it out first…so what haven't we done?"

Murdock wracked his brain trying to come up with the idea.

"It's not going to be pretty," Face told him, "But I think we need to try an ice bath, nothing else seems to be working too well."

Jean laughed and replied, "There ain't enough ice in the freezer to cover him." Then she looked like she wanted to kick herself and she added, "Sorry."

"It's worth a try, Murdock," Face said. He looked to Jean and asked, "There _is_ a bathtub in the bathroom down here, right?"

She nodded.

"Alright," Face said, "We'll try that…Jean, can you go out to the van and get Hannibal a change of clothes?"

Jean slowly nodded again and reluctantly pulled away from Murdock and headed out the back door. She opened the back doors on the van and stepped in and sorted through everything that was kept in the back and tried to determine what belonged to whom. Picking up a dirty shirt she saw something that truly made her feel sick. A brand new, unopened box of cigars. By now it had been at least three days since Hannibal had smoked a single cigar; she'd had no idea at the time how much she'd understated the obvious, the day Hannibal Smith didn't want a cigar, something _terrible_ had happened. She dropped the box on the floor and tried to push it from her mind, and she continued hunting up enough of Hannibal's clothes to change him into after his bath. Her finger hooked onto a latch opening one of the doors of the secret compartments in the van where they kept their extra weapons; she saw several guns and about a dozen magazines stored and ready to use, and then she saw something else, two hand grenades.

Jean picked up one of the grenades and felt the weight and texture in her hand, and a thought occurred to her. A last resort, if Decker closed in on them here, or at the hospital, she would make sure they reached an understanding and he saw things her way. No matter what happened, no matter what she had to do, they _would_ get Hannibal whatever treatment he needed, and nobody, not even the damn United States Army, was going to tell them otherwise. She slipped the grenade down in her pocket since she had a feeling she might not have the chance later, then she closed the compartment door, collected Hannibal's clothes and headed back into the house.

* * *

"Hannibal's fever is not going down," Face told Jean once he was able to get her alone for a minute, "As many pills as we've been feeding him around the clock, it should be a _lot_ lower than it is."

"I think he might still be delirious too," Jean replied, "Every time I go in to check on him, he keeps grinning at me and touching my stomach for some reason. What do you think that's about?"

"I don't know," Face said with a dismissive shake of his head, "But I'm worried that we _are_ going to have to get him to a hospital, I just don't know what else to do."

"I'm more worried about Murdock at the moment," Jean told him, "He never went to sleep last night, that's two nights now."

"Three," Face corrected her, "He didn't get any sleep the second night Hannibal was blowing up at us because he thought Hannibal might snap and try killing us in our sleep."

"What about that knockout stuff you always give B.A.?" Jean asked, "Couldn't you stick Murdock with a needle full of that?"

Face shook his head grimly, "It was Hannibal's turn to pick up a new batch of it and he never got around to it." Face had spent a better part of the last few days trying to keep everything together but now his own nerves were being grated down to the last thread and he was starting to get short with Jean and he sniped at her and said, "I'm usually all for avoiding medicine like the plague but this whole problem could've been solved if you just acted like every other actor in Hollywood and kept a stash of barbiturates in your house!"

"I did!" Jean snapped back at him, "When I went out last night to get the ice cream, I got a bottle of knockout pills, I tried putting them in Murdock's food but it didn't work, he didn't swallow them. That's why we were up all night gorging ourselves until _I_ got sick, I tried slipping the pills every time he refilled his bowl but it didn't work. He had to have known…he didn't say anything but as many times as you did the same thing to B.A., he just had to know what was going on, he was too smart for it."

"I'm sorry," Face said quietly, stepping down from the argument. "Look, Murdock will be alright, but it's Hannibal that I'm worried about. He has _never_ been like this. He's been in bed for two days, the only thing he's got the strength to do is roll over, we can barely keep him awake long enough to give him the pills and they're not working anymore. I think we need to get him to a hospital."

He heard the door behind him and he saw Murdock and B.A. standing in the kitchen doorway, apparently they had heard his last comment.

"Like I said before," Jean told them, "I'll put him in my car, I'll take him in, you guys won't have to run the risk of being seen."

"No way," B.A. shook his head as he walked over to her, "This is Hannibal we're talking about, if one of us goes then we all go."

"What if somebody tips off Decker that you're there?" Jean asked.

"Let them," Murdock told her, "Let Decker come, let Crane come, let Lynch come, let the whole damn army come, we're _not_ leaving our Colonel."

There was something in Murdock's voice as he spoke that made Jean realize just how seriously they were all taking this; something changed in her eyes and she looked up at him and only nodded her head in agreement and surrender, "Fine, we'll all go, we'll take him in, and do what? What are we going to tell the staff there? What story could we possibly tell them that they wouldn't get suspicious?" The answer came almost as quick as the question, "I've got it."

"That was fast," Face noted.

"Remember a year back Hannibal had that plan for when we checked into that hotel as the eccentric Tuttle family?" Jean asked them.

A light bulb went off over Murdock's head and he turned to Face, who was putting the answer together, but already he looked like he wasn't going to like it.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a good thing Face had decided they should move Hannibal to a hospital when he did, because shortly after they made that decision, Hannibal started sweating bullets and groaned and moaned in agony like he was being murdered and he was clutching his stomach, and he seemed to turn a shade paler than before. Working quickly and carefully, B.A and Face got him out to the van, but Hannibal got sick twice between the porch steps and the van, fortunately the only thing he had in him to lose was a little water, but still it convinced them all the more that they had to hurry. Jean and Murdock jumped in with the others and they drove to the closest hospital, which was half a mile away from Jean's home. They took only a minute to look around and decide what they must do; when they had a chance, one of them would come back out and move the van so it would still be close by, but _not_ the first thing somebody saw when they went past the hospital parking lot.

When they reached the hospital, B.A. and Face got on either side of Hannibal and helped walk him in while Jean and Murdock ran on ahead to inform the administration nurse of their newest patient. They identified themselves as the Tuttle family, she was Melinda, Murdock was Dwight, Face was Dirk, and Hannibal was their grandpa. As bad as Hannibal was looking right now it didn't take any stretch of the imagination to see him as an older man than he really was.

Hannibal was taken off to the ER by a large orderly and Murdock tried to follow after him but the doctors made it clear that family members weren't allowed to go in. And since nobody wanted their cover blown and Decker called in even sooner than he likely would be, possibly when Hannibal would be in surgery, everybody had to restrain themselves, especially B.A., and fight against the urge to beat some sense into the people running the hospital. B.A. went back the way they'd come in to go move the van, and Face helped Jean and Murdock fill out the forms for Hannibal, and everybody was just biding their time waiting to hear what the doctors found.

"Hannibal's going to be alright, isn't he?" Murdock asked Face. It had been the 10th time in 15 minutes that he had asked it, and everybody's patience were starting to wear thin.

"I'm sure he will, Murdock, you know how Hannibal is," Face replied.

Jean nodded weakly, "He's a tough old bird, Decker would have to bomb _him_ to get rid of him."

Usually Murdock could look any situation dead in the face and never flinch, it was one of the things that made him so unusual; no matter what was going on he always knew how to hold himself together, but this time he was losing it. He didn't make eye contact with the others and tried looking away but they could tell the dam was just about to break. Jean reached over and pulled him towards her; his head on her shoulder, his neck cradled in the crook of her arm, she flicked his baseball cap off and stroked through his hair. She tried to sound convincing as she told him, "Hannibal's going to be alright," but her own voice was breaking and they were both crying in anticipation of the worst case scenario when the doctor came back.

Face was tempted to scream at them both to stop it but he couldn't, he felt the exact same way they did, he just didn't show it as easily. _Something_ was wrong, that much was obvious. Hannibal might've had his share of sick days but he never let on to them, and he was _never_ in as vulnerable a position as they'd all seen him in during the last few days. It was like he wasn't even Hannibal anymore, as if he had been replaced with a shell of his former self. Nobody knew what to make of it, and nobody could help expecting the worst.

* * *

It seemed like an eternity before the doctor finally came out to talk to them and she explained that their grandfather needed to have his appendix taken out. It seemed that he'd only started suffering from an appendicitis a couple of hours ago, and that his ongoing fever had been from a pre-existing condition, though they weren't sure yet what it was. In spite of this however, she didn't appear to be worried about additional risks following Hannibal's operation, or the recovery. He was being prepped for surgery and had already been given anesthesia but after the others heavily prodded the subject, they were told they _could_ see him for a minute before he was taken to the OR.

Everybody stayed close to one another, as if nobody dared get more than a few inches away from the others, as if the floor or the walls might open up and swallow one of them if they weren't all right beside each other. Nobody wanted to be here and as much as they had to see Hannibal to know he was still alive, nobody wanted to go past the doors and see how he looked right now either; none of them would admit it but they were all afraid of what they might find.

Face was the first one to enter the room and he couldn't stop the gasp that escaped him. The others got around him to see Hannibal and they were of the same mind. Hannibal had aged 20 years since he'd been taken away to the ER half an hour ago. His eyes were closed, his breathing was slow, something had happened between then and now to make him look very much like an old man, far older than he was or how he had previously looked.

"Hannibal?" Face's voice was shaking as he approached the man on the gurney.

Hannibal opened one eye and looked up, and he weakly smiled at Face, but he didn't say anything.

"Hannibal, how're you feeling?" Murdock asked as he also crowded in on the man.

It took him a few seconds to open his mouth but he answered that he was fine. Then he saw Jean standing over him and he smiled at her.

"You're going to be alright, aren't you, Hannibal?" she asked.

"Oh sure," he answered, already halfway to cloud 9, "I'll be fine."

"That's good," she said, "We've all been worried about you, especially Murdock."

Hannibal closed his eyes and shook his head, "Murdock doesn't have anything to worry about, everything's going to be fine, these things always work out in the end."

Nobody understood what he was saying but they took that as a sign that he was slipping further under sedation. The doctor and a nurse came into the room and told them that they had to leave now.

"Grandpa," Jean said to Hannibal, getting down in his face so she knew she'd have his attention, "We've got to go now but we're going to see you in a little bit, alright?"

Hannibal turned his head to the side and smiled at her. Then he looked back up at the doctor and the nurse and, weakly raising his arm to point at Jean he told them, "This is my granddaughter…she's going to have a baby soon."

Jean's eyes were wide as saucers and her bottom jaw had dropped; and as she looked to the others she found likewise stares being returned at her when he said that.

Hannibal reached around and found Face's hand and gripped it in his own as he further explained to the nurse, "This is my 18 year old daughter, she just got her hair cut, doesn't she look cute?"

Now it was Face's turn to look as confused as all hell, and he was tempted to ask how much stuff they'd given Hannibal.

Next Hannibal found Murdock and added, "This is my son, Billy, nice boy but he thinks he's a dog, you gotta go along with it and humor him." Then he tilted his head back and pointed to B.A., "That's my grandson, Lawrence."

"Alright, Mr. Tuttle," the doctor said as two orderlies came in, "We're going to take you off to the operating room now, so tell your family goodbye."

Hannibal couldn't keep his eyes open anymore, and could barely raise his hand, but he waved to them and called, "Byeeeee."

"We'll be waiting for you, Grandpa," Face told him.

They stayed behind for a minute after he was wheeled out, then they slowly walked out and headed back to the waiting room.

"An appendicitis, that's all it is, I can't believe it," Face said.

"That's not all it is," Murdock replied, "But the doctor didn't seem to be too worried about the other thing, so I guess it means he'll be alright."

"I think I'm going to be sick again," Jean said.

Murdock grabbed her hand and said, "Come on, I saw the bathrooms are down this way."

It took Face a couple of seconds to catch on to what Murdock said, and when he did he followed behind them and said, "Murdock, I don't think that's a good idea." But Murdock was already escorting her into the women's room, and Face waited to hear the screaming start, but there wasn't any, all he heard through the door was Murdock saying, "Excuse me, ladies, my wife's feeling rather poorly."

Face walked away from the door and headed back to where B.A. was sitting in the waiting room. Face started to sit down, but stopped and looked back down the hall where they'd gone.

"What is it, man?" B.A. asked.

Face looked back at B.A. and said, "I just had a disturbing thought, do you think Hannibal might've been right?"

"Right about what?" B.A. asked.

Face jerked his thumb back the way Murdock and Jean had gone and he said, "Jean said Hannibal kept touching her stomach and smiling at her, he thought she was pregnant."

"Man been running a fever for four days, man also said I was his grandson, and _you_ his daughter, so what?" B.A. asked.

Face glanced back to the restroom door and said, "I don't know."

* * *

Murdock held the door open as Jean stepped out of the bathroom. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I think so," she replied as they went back to the waiting area.

B.A. and Face sat in two of the chairs in the waiting room, each the exact opposite of the other; B.A. was leaned back in his and about to tip the chair against the wall, Face sat hunched over like he was ready to fall out of his at a moment's notice. When he saw them coming back he got up and asked, "How're you feeling, Jean?"

"I'm better now," she answered.

"Uh, Jean, can I ask you a personal question?" Face asked.

"Sure."

"Okay…well, I don't know if anybody ever told you this, but when you told us that you and Murdock had gotten married, when Hannibal talked to Murdock about it he asked Murdock if you were pregnant."

Jean stared at him with a blank look, a very deadpan expression, and a most uninterested tone as she said only, "Uh-huh," signaling for him to continue with his question.

"Well…are you?" he asked.

Jean turned to look at Murdock but saw that B.A. had also leant an ear into the conversation, now he was leaning forward as well to listen to her answer. She looked at him and snapped, "Is everybody in on this?" B.A. didn't say anything but the slight difference in the look on his face said that he was surprised by her outburst, and he picked up his chair and moved it a couple feet over and away from them.

Jean looked back at Face and said, "Face, I'm going to tell you something and I'm only going to explain this once, so pay attention. In all the history of the world, in all the thousands of years that mankind has been running around this planet, there has only been room in all of it for _one_ miracle child, and I _ain't_ the mama for it."

"I see," he replied sheepishly, "Well thanks for clearing that up."

"Do you believe that, Murdock?" Jean asked as she walked over to him, "Pregnant, me, now that's a bad joke."

Murdock tried to laugh but it was obvious his heart wasn't fully into it. Everybody sat back down and waited for an update from the doctor. Nobody said anything to each other but the noises they made were enough to rattle one another's nerves to the edge; for the most part the only sound any of them made was their own breathing but right now even that sounded ten times louder than before. Murdock tried to hold still in his chair but one leg shook and his foot rattled against the floor so much everybody thought he was going to wear down the ball in his foot to a flat surface.

"How long does it take to remove somebody's appendix?" Jean asked Face finally.

"I don't know," he answered, "Supposed to be a very common procedure, half an hour I guess."

"How long's it been?" she asked.

Face checked his watch and said, "About fifteen minutes."

"And what if there're complications?" Jean asked.

Face didn't want to think about that but he couldn't because much as he tried not to, he couldn't help wondering the same thing. Nobody was willing to admit that Hannibal was not as young as he once was and what laid ahead on that particular road; but right now it felt like the answer had been dropped in their laps at warp speed. And maybe there wasn't a connection, maybe this still would've happened in the way it happened if he was a younger man, they didn't know, but none of them could shake the horrible feeling looming over them that things were only going to get worse.

* * *

Hannibal was aware of two things; the first was that he couldn't open his eyes, the second was that he couldn't hear anything. He didn't know _where_ he was but for some reason that didn't bother him. It also didn't really bother him that he couldn't see anybody, because he doubted he would've wanted to anyway. The last thing he could remember was seeing those doctors in the operating room, he was in _no_ mood for playing 20 questions with them when he opened his eyes and they tried to find out how he was responding to whatever they had done.

He liked the quiet and the dark, he doubted he would be there long but in the meantime it gave him a chance to be still and just think. He felt like his mind was spinning, a whole menagerie of memories and thoughts were jammed together like animals on a merry-go-round, and which one would come up and stop first he didn't know. A few memories went past him in a flash: Face, B.A., Murdock, Jean, he didn't know where he was seeing them from but he guessed from when they first got into the hospital, he couldn't make out the background surrounding them but that sounded right. And then the picture changed and everything turned to pitch blackness, followed by a blood curdling scream. Somehow Hannibal knew that this wasn't a dream, it was a memory, he was remembering something that had occurred several years ago.

It was still in the first year since they'd gotten back to L.A. after escaping the stockade, and this was he guessed about the 4th time since Murdock's commitment that they'd busted him out of the V.A. It had been too late in the night to take him back so Hannibal had told Face that Murdock could stay with him at his apartment. What was the worst that could happen? Apparently a 3 A.M. wakeup call from the man in the next bed screaming like a banshee. Hannibal threw on the lights and went over to the other bed and grabbed the man who was about to hit the ceiling and forced him to wake up.

"Murdock!" he was screaming at the man to be heard over his own screaming, "What is it!?"

Murdock got out a couple of shorter, quieter screams, and then reality kicked in, or whatever reality was now for the pilot. He saw Hannibal standing over him and he collapsed against him, grabbing handfuls of the colonel's pajama shirt and using it to wipe his eyes on as he burst into tears.

"Murdock, what's wrong?"

It took Murdock a couple of times before he could be heard coherently, "Hannibal please, don't make me go back to the V.A."

This was still early into Murdock's residing there and he still hadn't gotten used to the place yet. Hannibal also knew that Murdock was still in the midst of perfecting his trick of pretending to take his pills and then disposing of them later, sometimes he couldn't help swallowing whatever medications they were trying to put him on, and he always paid dearly for that because they never did what they were supposed to and had strange effects on him. Any time Murdock could get a heads up on when they were coming for him he especially tried to make sure he didn't actually swallow his pills, but they'd made a couple of unexpected drops and had seen him in one of his worse conditions, under the influence of whatever they'd stuffed down his throat. He knew there were other things that went on there that were also an abomination to mankind; electroshock therapy was apparently making a very popular comeback. Somehow though even that didn't seem as bad as what the medication did to Murdock.

"I'm sorry, Murdock," he said as he took a step back to break Murdock's grip on his shirt, "I wish we didn't have to."

"Can't I just stay here?" Murdock asked, "I won't be in your way."

Hannibal shook his head, "Believe me, Captain, I wish it were that easy."

Murdock wiped the bottom of his hand under one eye and asked, "What about Faceman? Do you think he'd…"

"Murdock, it's not that," Hannibal told him, "You weren't considered responsible for helping us with the bank job in Hanoi because they thought you were insane."

"So?"

"So you're not considered a threat the army needs to watch out for, you're not a fugitive."

"I'd rather be a fugitive than be locked up in that place," Murdock told him, "It can't _possibly_ be as bad as it is there."

Hannibal knew there was something else to the whole thing, the nightmares. Oddly enough, the man had, as far as they knew, very few nightmares either in 'Nam or about it. The last time he could recall it happening was when Murdock had crashed his plane. But he was finding out nightmares were much more frequent for Murdock ever since he'd been committed at the V.A.; not a nightly basis but frequent enough that he held off sleeping whenever he could. Recently the captain had confided in Hannibal that he managed to go one whole week without any sleep but then the doctors caught on and had him forcibly sedated, which left him asleep for two whole days, much to his horror when he found out.

"Murdock, I'm sorry, I wish there was another way around this, but right now there isn't. The word about our last mission is already getting around and when the army hears about it, they're going to start putting two and two together on just how we managed to get over to Brazil to rescue that scientist's daughter. They're going to know we flew over, and they're going to come to the V.A. to see you about it, and if you're not there, then they're going to know."

Murdock suddenly became eerily quiet and he looked down towards the floor. Rising up on his knees, he scooted back on the bed and put some distance between himself and the Colonel.

It was bad enough being considered the bad guy by his own country and the men he served alongside during the war, but if there was anything Hannibal hated, it was having to be the bad guy with his own men. But it was a role he'd had to play more than once already and probably would many more times in the future. He wasn't proud of it but he accepted this as an inevitable fact since he was their leader and if that position _would_ fall on anybody's shoulders, it only made sense that it would be him. He sat down beside Murdock who was looking the other way and reached over to squeeze his shoulder but Murdock moved back again.

"Now I'm sorry, Murdock," he told the captain, "But there's nothing we can do about it right now." He leaned over to see if Murdock would look at him, but he would not. "However…I imagine it'll take the army a few days to get word about the mission…I think it can be arranged to let you stay here for another day."

That made Murdock turn around to look at him. Well, it was a start anyway.

"Now, do you remember what you're going to say when they _do_ come to see you at the hospital?" Hannibal asked.

"Yeah," Murdock slowly answered, "When they come into my room I tell them about how all the little spiders that run up and down the walls all day gather together on the ceiling at night and are planning to cocoon everybody in a massive web when they're all in their beds asleep, and then they can feast off of our flesh and eyeballs for the rest of their lives and the lives of their 500,000 children and grandchildren and great-great grandchildren."

Hannibal clapped his hand on Murdock's shoulder and this time he didn't move away. "Good work, Captain."

* * *

That had been so long ago. Murdock had been so young then, hell they all had been; nobody would ever believe that the man he'd been then was the same person that he was now. So much had changed over the years; in time Murdock had managed to fool all the doctors and the nurses, and he'd gotten so he actually liked staying at the V.A., at least that's what he told them, and if he didn't then he had perfected his act for all their benefits. Hannibal would've preferred if they could've gotten Murdock discharged 10 years ago but at the time they just hadn't seen any possible way to make it happen.

Now, thank God, all of that was behind them, now Murdock was legally sane, and he never had to go back to the V.A., a milestone event that made everybody happy…well almost. Hannibal remembered that B.A. always complained whenever Murdock had to stay with him for a week, but other than that there were no complaints about the captain's newfound freedom. Hannibal was happy for Murdock, now at least _one_ of them could hope for a semi-normal life; now Murdock was free to get married, have kids, raise a family.

He remembered when Jean announced that she and Murdock had gotten married, and he remembered the things he'd said to her and now that time had passed he wasn't feeling too proud about most of them. He remembered assuming the worst from her in the beginning, never explicitly saying it but downright accusing her of stringing Murdock along, and with intent or not, of going to be responsible for hurting him someday. And it had happened, he remembered when Murdock announced he wasn't sure he wanted to be married anymore, and when he asked Jean about it all she'd had to say to Hannibal was, "You can say 'I told you so' now." At the time he hadn't realized how awful he'd acted towards her in the beginning, but he'd had plenty of time to think about it now.

What Hannibal really remembered was the night that Jean announced they were going to get their marriage annulled, and the morning after. They'd gone down to the bar and found Murdock there, and he'd seen how upset the captain was, but he knew it would be worse when they were home, in private. He drove them both back to Jean's house and then he, Face and B.A. had left and stayed in a motel for the night, to give them the privacy they needed for what was going to come next. They had gone back to the house early the next morning, and Hannibal decided to see what damage control needed to be done first. He knew that they wouldn't find the place torn up or the furniture destroyed, that was beneath both of them; but when they went through the first floor and didn't see anything wrong or anybody there, Hannibal quietly crept up the stairs, keeping an ear open for any fighting.

The whole house had been quiet as a tomb, and Hannibal didn't know if that was a good sign or not. He came to their bedroom door and saw it was ajar, he still didn't hear anything so he pushed it open and looked in. The sun wouldn't be up for another hour but it was still light enough in the room to see them, and it was a heartbreaking sight. He could see them lying on the bed with their arms wrapped so tightly around one another, they almost looked like conjoined twins they were so closely put together; and even though the room was still dark he could see both of their faces were wet with matching half-dried tear streaks from crying all night. He didn't need to know what had gone on here the night before, he was just glad they'd left them alone for it to happen. But it was obvious how shortsighted he had been when he'd spoken of Murdock being hurt by a mock marriage, in that instant it was very clear that the pain was mutual, and Jean was hurting from it just as much as Murdock was.

Hannibal couldn't help feeling partly responsible for this, even though he knew it was not because of him that they were ending the marriage; they were too smart to let something as petty as a third party or even three third parties be the reason for that. In the beginning he had been against the marriage and had even told Murdock he saw it coming to a crashing halt, and now that it was he wished that it wasn't. For the life of him, he couldn't think of two other people who were more perfect together, who if anybody should be married, they seemed the most likely. Even now he could tell that it wasn't really what either of them wanted, but Murdock had decided it was the best decision for all involved. But even the Captain couldn't act convincing when he'd told them that, Hannibal didn't get _why_ Murdock truly decided they should do this.

* * *

Face looked to the end of the waiting room and could see all the way back to the front desk where they'd spoken to the administrative nurse when they brought Hannibal in. "Uh-oh," he said.

"What is it?" B.A. asked.

"See that nurse over there?" Face asked.

B.A. turned his head to see what Face was seeing. At the front desk was a young nurse who they had seen earlier but only briefly, she was looking over something on a chart and she looked apprehensive about it.

"I'll bet you anything she's finding our form for Hannibal," Face said, "The Tuttles be damned, she knows something's up, and you can be sure _she's_ going to be the one to blow the whistle on us to Decker."

They watched and waited to see what she would do. Hannibal was still in surgery so the _last_ thing they needed was a 20-MP escort to Leavenworth right now. But the nurse put the chart down and started sorting through other papers on the desk. Face waited for the moment when she'd pick up the phone and dial a number, but she never did.

"Maybe you're wrong," B.A. said.

Face shook his head, "I don't think so…she can see us so she's not going to call the United States Army with us right here watching her, she's going to wait until we leave this room."

"She can't wait for too long because we'll be gone," B.A. reminded him.

A light bulb went off in Face's head and he realized what it meant, "No, B.A., we're not going to be going anywhere and she knows it…she _knows_ that Hannibal is not going to be leaving this hospital anytime soon. And I don't think it just means the usual three day recovery from an appendectomy, I think she _knows_ that something else is wrong with Hannibal than just what the doctors are telling us."

"Like what?" B.A. asked.

"I don't know…but I'm getting the feeling that he's not going to be leaving the operating room anytime soon," Face told him.

"We'll see about that," B.A. replied.

Face wanted to laugh, "What do you want to do, B.A., assist? We have to wait, that's all there is to it, but I'll tell you something, the minute somebody walks through here I'm going to find out what the holdup _is_."

B.A. pointed his thumb towards the nurse, "And her?"

"Hannibal's going to be in the hospital overnight, they can't have us taking up the chairs all night, they're probably anticipating we'll stay with him, and that's going to be when she calls the army to let them know that we're here."

B.A. snorted and replied, "Might be a long wait."

"Yeah," Face turned and realized why the waiting room was so quiet, "Hey, Murdock and Jean still aren't back yet. I wonder what's keeping them?"

"I'll go find them," B.A. said as he stood up, "Knowing that crazy fool, Murdock, he probably stuffed a pillow in his shirt and went up to the maternity ward pretending to be in labor."

Face managed a weak smile in reminiscence as he noted, "Wouldn't be the first time."

B.A. went down the corridor checking the doors on his left and right to see if any were open, and watching everybody who walked past him to make sure Murdock wasn't one of them. He stopped in his tracks when he started to pass by one closed door and he heard someone crying, turning around he put his ear near the door and could hear it sounded like Jean. He pushed the door open and the room was dark, he couldn't see Jean but he could hear her, and based on the outlines of the things he could see he guessed this was a utility closet or something of the sort, one of the few semi-private places to find in a hospital.

Apparently Jean had heard the door open and saw the light coming in because she became quiet, and B.A. could hear her get up, it sounded like she was in the far corner of the room where the light wouldn't hit her. He reached for the light switch but nothing happened, she must've taken the bulb out when she came in here. He stepped into the room and shut the door part way so only a sliver of light made its way in, and stepping towards where he sensed Jean was, he asked her, "Hey mama, what's wrong?"

She drew in a shaky inhale and said quietly, "Nothing, B.A.," a weak laugh was wrenched from her as she added, "Just reflecting on what a miserable excuse for a person I am."

He took another step towards her, and heard her take a step away from him. "What're you talking about?" he asked her, "You been around Murdock too long and finally gone crazy too?"

One particularly gut wrenching sob escaped her and immediately B.A. was sorry he'd said anything, he knew how much Jean liked Murdock, she had to since she actually went through and married him. But apparently that wasn't the problem, when she calmed down she told him, "All we're doing is sitting around waiting, waiting for somebody to come out and tell us if Hannibal's alright, if he's going to live or die…I've never been so worried about anyone in my life...and I honestly doubt I'd even feel this bad if it were my _own_ father in the operating room. My own family I could care less about than that man in the operating room right now. What's that say about me?"

Her guard was down and B.A. took advantage of it, he sidestepped around the junk in the room and grabbed her before she could move away from him again. Jean screamed and resisted but he held her tight against him so she couldn't get away, and he felt her collapse against him as she started crying again. He didn't say anything, he wasn't accustomed to it, and there wasn't much _to_ say, but one thought running through his mind at that moment was that this was not his strong suit. Jean always had a hard-as-nails cover surrounding her and few things could chip underneath its surface. As far as he knew, only Murdock had ever been able to do that, but it was all only suspect, he could think something all he wanted, but whatever happened between this girl and that crazy fool was their own business, they never said anything to anybody. All the same, B.A. wondered where the hell Murdock was right now because it should've been him doing this now.

Something touched him and he felt himself become paralyzed. His shoulder was wet and the warm drops trailed down his arm, it felt too familiar. It wasn't tears, it was blood he was feeling, warm blood trickling down his skin, he remembered, Hannibal's blood. He remembered the night they'd escaped from the Federal Building with a couple dozen MPs after them and shooting at them. Hannibal had been hit in the shoulder and another bullet had just grazed his temple, somebody had smiled down on him that night and decided to spare him, another fraction of an inch and his brains would've been blown out. He'd tripped and fallen face down and wasn't getting up; B.A. had called his name as he ran back to get the Colonel, there was no response. B.A. hauled Hannibal to his feet and dragged him along to the van, in that time Hannibal's blood had leaked onto him and was running down his arms. That had been another horrible night, another time when they couldn't get Hannibal to wake up; they'd gotten back to his apartment where once he _did_ wake up he'd be the most comfortable, and they had all sat up half the night waiting to see if he would regain consciousness or not.

His mind returned to the here and now and he heard Jean starting to calm down, he loosed his death grip on her and patted her high on the back as he told her, "It's gonna be okay, mama, ain't nothing wrong with you, it's only so hard now with Hannibal 'cuz he's here. He has a tendency to grow on you and be like a father, whether you want him to or not, trust me."

Jean's voice was still breaking as she pulled away from him and said, "I just want this whole mess to be over."

"Yeah I know," he told her, "It will be soon enough…come on, let's go find Murdock, last thing I need is _both_ of ya falling apart on me."

Jean laughed as she went with him and left the supply closet. They went down the corridor and turned the corner and B.A. saw Murdock heading their way. "Hey man, come over here and get your wife!"

Murdock practically floated over to them and he saw Jean and asked her, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Jean insisted, "The doctors still haven't come back yet and nobody's told us anything."

Murdock groaned and put his arm around her and they walked back to the waiting room.

"What is taking so long?" Jean asked, "It's been almost an hour now."

"Maybe there _were_ complications," Face reluctantly admitted.

"What does that mean though?" Jean asked.

"I don't know," he replied, "Maybe his appendix ruptured during the surgery, I don't know…I hate hospitals, I always avoid them as much as possible."

"The only people who don't are the really sick ones," Jean said, "Not sick because they're ill, sick because they consciously decide to come to this place without it being a last resort."

After that everybody tried being quiet and sitting still but nobody was having much luck. Jean leaned against Murdock's ribs and was about asleep, but he felt like he needed to get up and move around or he might really lose it. He looked down at his wife and asked her, "You feeling alright, Jean? You're looking a little pale."

"Mm-hmm," she tiredly murmured.

Murdock heard a terrible noise and about jumped, when he realized it was Jean's stomach growling. "You hungry?"

"Mm-hmm," she repeated as she opened her eyes.

"Come on," he said as he stood up, "Let's go get something to eat."

Jean groaned and said, "I don't want anything from that lousy cafeteria."

"That's alright," Murdock told her, "I saw a vending machine down the hall."

"I already tried it," she said, "It doesn't work."

Murdock looked at her and said, "That never stopped me before." He saw the weird look on her face and asked her, "Didn't I ever tell you about the time I squeezed myself into the back of an ATM machine?"

* * *

Hannibal wasn't sure how much time had passed. It was still dark and quiet, and for the time being he still liked that. He was sure those damn doctors were around somewhere just waiting for him to wake up, he would keep them waiting. He'd kept every member of the Los Angeles branch of the Military Police waiting to see him rotting behind bars for over 10 years, this would be nothing. He'd had plenty of time to think back on what had happened the last few months. One thing that his mind kept going back to was Murdock and Jean. He'd tried examining their situation from every possible angle and he still couldn't make any sense of it. They'd gotten married with, so far as he knew, no intention of it being a real marriage, somewhere along the way though it seemed to be developing into one, and now that it was in the process of becoming one, _now_ they were cutting the cord on it and letting it go. And why? Murdock had told him it was so Jean wasn't a liability, so she wouldn't be an additional target on Decker's radar; but she was already involved, she had seen to that the minute she shoved her gun in Decker's stomach and threatened to shoot him. If Murdock hadn't already held the title, Hannibal would've sworn Jean was the crazy one.

No, not crazy, he knew better than that. In so short a time Jean had been exposed to so much death, and had had her own share of responsibility for so many deaths, and had been at the door herself and made her way back, after that Hannibal knew, few things could pose any real threat for someone in that position. She never worried about her own life, every insane thing she did was to ensure _their_ getaway instead. He tried to laugh but it hurt him to try, Jean was the only person he knew who had the nerve to actually get in Decker's face and tell him where to shove it; she wasn't property of the United States army, he couldn't dictate what happened to her, especially since she always had an escape of her own planned and ready to execute at a moment's notice. By now it was impossible for Hannibal to consider what kind of person she might have been if she hadn't been put through the hell she was, the nightmare that had brought them all together in the first place. He'd never tell it to Jean, but it seemed obvious to him that it was just meant to happen, everything that she had been through, everything they'd all had to endure in that time and place, it was all meant to fall into place the way it had. It was a macabre way to look at the way life panned out, but that didn't stop it from being true.

Something else Hannibal remembered was the night that she and Murdock had started filling out the papers to begin the annulment, and Jean had made the joke that she was glad if they had to do this, it was before they had children. He also remembered his own thoughts at that time about how, since Murdock _was_ so good with children, and other people who needed to be dealt with delicately, he _would _be a good father, that he _would _be great with children. Aside from B.A., Murdock was probably the most qualified member of the Team to deal with children because he was very childlike himself most of the time.

It had been the age old question, was it real, was it an act, was Murdock insane, was he just playing insane? They'd never really known the answer. Hannibal believed that B.A. was partly right; when Murdock crashed his plane it had shaken him up completely, and he honestly believed the poor man's brain went along for the earthquake. But did it make him insane? He didn't think so. Murdock prided himself on being insane, so Hannibal would never say anything to him, but he always believed Murdock was perfectly sane, just not what some people would call 'normal'. He thought back again to when they first returned to Los Angeles, and Murdock first went into the V.A., he had been so much younger then, he was practically a child himself. Of course, from the eldest person's stance in any group, anyone who's younger is _always_ regarded as a child, but with Murdock it seemed especially true. Yes, Face was the youngest of them all, but he carried himself as a much older, more mature, more sophisticated man, it went with the territory of his work of being a conman and a charmer by nature. But Murdock? No, for all intents and purposes, he _was_ still just a boy, and that was why Hannibal had suggested the problem with their marriage now was that they had both gotten married too young.

That got him to thinking and the merry-go-round started again and all his thoughts started racing around, and he wondered just _what_ it would be like if Murdock _did_ have children. He smiled as he considered the possibilities.


	4. Chapter 4

_He wondered just what it would be like if Murdock did have children. He smiled as he considered the possibilities._

"Tuh-rash bags! I want some trash bags!" Wendy Murdock hollered from where she stood at the top of the stairs. The 12-year-old girl was dressed as she always was in a blue jean jacket, a red baseball cap, and a pair of turquoise Chuck Taylor sneakers. She pounded the railing and continued to yell, "I want 'em, I want 'em! I want some trash bags!"

Her older brother, John Murdock, came out into the hall to see what all the yelling was about and he saw his younger brother, Peter Murdock, already there, with his arms folded to his chest and his neck craned up to see at the top of the stairs. Despite being a year apart, both boys were roughly the same size and were often dressed the same way in jeans and T-shirts with a caption or a cartoon character on them.

"What is it now?" John asked.

"The usual," Peter answered, and called up the stairs, "She won't SHUT UP!"

But she was relentless and continued, "I want some trash bags! I want some trash bags!"

John started to laugh but restrained himself and said to his brother, "Why don't you just toss some of them up there? Maybe we'll get lucky and she'll stick her head in one and suffocate."

"Good idea," Peter said. He got the box of trash bags from the kitchen and heaved the whole thing up the stairs at his sister. Wendy caught the box in hand and said civilly, "Thank you!"

"You could've just asked, you know!" Peter called after her.

"Sure," she replied, "But where would the fun be in that?"

"In the meantime," John told his brother, "Let's get the stairway cleared before Mom and Dad get home. You know they don't like it when we barricade her up there."

One by one they picked up the chairs from the dining room that they piled halfway up the stairs so Wendy couldn't get down until she got her room cleaned up, and put them back at the table so nothing was out of place. They didn't know when their parents would be home but they knew they should be getting done with work soon.

* * *

"Whose idea was it to run the Aquamaniac through 23 movies?" Jean asked Murdock as she exited her dressing room in a blue one piece swimsuit.

"At least they're finally killing him off," Murdock replied, "So he can finally rest in swamp peace."

"Murdock, they've killed him off in the last four movies," Jean reminded him, "This _better_ be the last one they do, they better figure out some way to permanently kill this guy or _I_ will."

Murdock laughed, "At least we only have one more scene to finish and then our end of it will be finished."

"About time too," Jean replied, "Two hours dog paddling in that lake every day for a week so we can get the chase scene finished, and we could've had it done on the first day if that nitwit in the rubber suit could keep up."

Murdock picked up a five gallon bucket of water and just before he threw it on her he said, "These new guys just don't have the finesse of playing the Aquamaniac like Hannibal did."

Jean gasped as the cold water initially hit her, then she opened her eyes and smoothed back her hair and said, "Why do I bother going to makeup? Every day I put on this suit and get hit with five gallons of water just to go out and swim in 50,000 gallons all afternoon waiting for the Aqua Slug to catch up with me. Like I told the director, the only way that thing is going to be able to catch up with me is he would have to steal a motorboat and ride in it."

"You shouldn't have told him that," Murdock told her, "You'll give them the idea for a 24th movie."

"Well," Jean said, "You know what you have to do?"

"Sure," he nodded, "I fly the police chopper out over the lake, lower it down, and you climb aboard _just_ in time to get away from ol' double ugly."

"Right, let's try and get it done on the first try, so none of that stuff you learned in the Thunderbirds," Jean said as they headed out to the set, "I want to get this done with, and go home and see the kids before the day's done."

* * *

"Oh by the way," Murdock told Jean during their drive home after filming wrapped for the day, "Face called earlier. He wants to know if we can keep an eye on his boy while he and Toni take a week off for Hawaii."

"Tim?" Jean said, "Sure we can take him, probably just as well because he's probably already on his way here anyway, right?"

"You got it," he replied.

"I still say that ain't his kid," Jean told him, "Have you seen him? He looks nothing like Face, he's already getting too tall and he's got a head full of wild black hair, he doesn't look like his father at all."

"Bah," Murdock waved her off, "Do our kids look like us?"

She looked at him and answered, "They look more like us than he looks like Face."

Murdock laughed, otherwise they were quiet for the rest of the ride home. He parked their car up in the driveway but not up against the house because they could see trash bags full of something being tossed out of an upstairs window and landing in the driveway.

"This ought to be a good one," Jean said as they opened their doors, "Let's see what's going on."

Murdock was the first one to reach the spot under the window, and just before he looked up he heard his daughter calling, "Daddy!"

"What?" he asked as he looked around for her, then realized the voice was coming from above him.

"Catch me!" Wendy called as she jumped out of the window. Murdock didn't catch her quite so much as she fell on him, and knocked him off his balance and they both fell down against the driveway, but she broke her fall on him.

"Oh boy," Murdock groaned as he tried sitting up, "Now I'm glad we never got around to having the driveway paved."

"Are you alright?" Jean asked as she came up to him.

"I think so," Murdock answered as they both stood up, "The rocks broke my fall."

Jean stared down at her daughter and asked her, "And just what did you think you were doing?"

"What you told me to," Wendy answered, "I was cleaning my room."

"Where're your brothers?" she asked.

"In the house."

They had barely gotten in the front door when they heard a loud crashing noise and they ran into the living room where the noise had come from and saw Peter knocked on the floor by the bookcase, of which every shelf had been ripped out of one side and all tilted down, except for one of the lower shelves which came out entirely with all its heavy contents attached, and was pinned against his leg.

"Peter, are you alright?" Wendy asked as she rushed over to her brother.

"I feel like I got a shelf on my leg," he said.

"Ya think?" Wendy asked as she smacked him in the back of the head. She and John picked up the ends of the shelf and lifted it as well as the heavy antiques that were resting on it, off of his leg.

Murdock grabbed Peter under his armpits and pulled him back and up on his feet. "You feeling okay, little guy?"

"I'm fine," Peter answered, "But I don't think the bookcase is."

"Look at this," Jean said as she cleared another shelf off the case and pointed to the side, "The nails have popped out and all the brackets have been ripped out of place…what did this?"

"I don't know but we're going to get it fixed," Murdock said and hugged his son, "I specifically ordered a son 13 years ago, _not_ a pancake."

It took a couple of hours but they managed to get the shelves fixed and everything back up and in the order it previously had been. After that, Murdock and Jean went into their bedroom, Murdock closed the door and Jean laid down on the bed and closed her eyes; she opened them when she felt a weight pressing against her body and saw it was Murdock hovering over her.

"Well we got through another shoot without anybody getting killed," he said.

Jean nodded, "And given who the director is, that's no easy task."

Murdock grinned at her and leaned into her and kissed her, but they were interrupted when they heard somebody knocking at the bedroom door.

"Of course," he said as he climbed over his wife and got up, he turned back to Jean and told her, "Don't go anywhere." Jean laughed in response. Murdock opened the door to see who was trying to kill whom now, and if it wasn't that then he knew it was a matter of what broke, what fell, or what blew up. They were great kids but he was just glad that they were at an age where they couldn't do much to surprise him anymore.

* * *

Peter and John were one and two years up on Wendy and she was and always had been the runt of the litter, and this was something Murdock considered to be a blessing, but it was also not without its disadvantages. He stepped in the front door with his daughter slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes with her kicking the whole time as he made various airplane noises and announced, "B-29 bomber coming in for a landing, repeat tower, coming in for a landing, get everybody off the runway, cleeeeeaaaaar!" and put her down.

However today, his daughter was not pleased and she looked up at her father and said, "I still don't see why I had to come home early."

Murdock had just brought her back from the city pool after he'd gotten a call of complaint about public indecency or something of that sort. It was an ongoing problem that he currently didn't see any end in sight for; by now he had learned to come prepared and showed up with one of her spare T-shirts and managed to get her in it before bringing her home.

"We've been over this before," he calmly explained to her.

"But I still don't understand why I can't just wear my swimming trunks to the pool like John and Peter do," Wendy told him, "We're all built exactly alike."

"I know that, darling," Murdock told her.

"Well then?" she asked.

Murdock rolled his eyes and struggled not to laugh as he told her, "We've had this talk before."

"Yeah and it still doesn't make any sense," Wendy told her father, "They don't have to wear tops to go swimming, so why should I?"

"Go ask your mother," he said as he ruffled her damp hair that was half stiff from the chlorine.

"Hey," Jean called out as they entered the living room, "Look who's here."

Murdock looked into the room and saw his two boys, and Face's son Tim, 14 years old and already as tall as his father, and well on his way to being built larger than him as well.

"Hi Uncle Murdock," he said pleasantly.

"Tim, we weren't expecting you until later," Murdock announced.

"Take a guess how he got here," Jean said.

Murdock went over to the front window and looked out, "I'm going to go out on a branch and guess the white T-bird out at the curb." He turned back to Tim and said, "I'm assuming you've got your license with you."

"Naturally," Tim flashed his inherited charmer grin as he showed Murdock the driver's license identifying him as 17-year-old Brian Dunigan from Palm Springs.

"That's nice," Murdock told him, "That's a good picture, you're taking after your old man, looking more and more like him every day."

"Liar," Jean replied, and resumed flashing a semi-pleasant smile at them.

* * *

A thunderstorm had come up that night shortly after everybody had gone to bed. By now, Murdock and his wife didn't think they had anything to worry about where their kids were concerned, but they quickly found out they were wrong when; sometime during the night, there was one particularly loud CRASH of thunder, and all of a sudden the bedroom door was thrown open and four children jumped into the middle of their bed. Everybody was flopping around like fish out of water and Murdock got pushed out of the bed and fell on the floor. He got up and turned on the lights to see what was going on and saw their three kids and Face's boy in the middle of their bed.

"Oh it's _you_," he said sarcastically, then he looked to Jean and said, "Well I guess there's only one way anybody's going to get any sleep tonight," and he pointed at John on the end and told him, "Move over."

It was a tight fit but they all managed to fit in the queen sized bed. However, as soon as Murdock got back on his end, Jean reached over and poked him and asked him, "How many children did we have?"

He looked at her in surprise, "You don't remember?"

She replied smugly, "I'm not sure I was even there."

Murdock resisted laughing and told her, "We have three."

"Oh," she looked the four kids over and said, "Then that means one of these isn't ours."

"That's right," Murdock said.

She leaned over to him and asked, "Which one?"

Murdock pointed to Tim and said, "This one."

"Fine," Jean replied, and added, "So stick a stamp on him, hang him on the mailbox and return him to sender."

Murdock waved her off and one by one grabbed the children and kissed them goodnight, Tim included, then turned off the lights and they all settled down for the night. A few minutes later another loud BOOM sounded off and six people pulled the covers up over their heads and burrowed down for the night.

* * *

The next morning, Murdock and Jean had left for their annual visit to see Dr. Richter at his summer home for his birthday, a tradition Murdock had started the year before John was born. This was fine with the children because with their parents' hectic schedule at the movie studio they were home quite often during the days and they'd learned long ago how to keep themselves entertained. Peter had gone off exploring the vacant land behind the house early that day and that left John, Wendy and Tim in the house to amuse themselves.

"So what's been going on here since the last time I was dropped off at this miserable excuse for a home away from home?" Tim asked as he looked at the knickknack décor on the walls.

"Very little really," Wendy explained, "Though we certainly weren't looking for you to come along as the solution to that."

"Yeah well it wasn't my idea either," Tim told her, "Especially when right now I could be in Hawaii lying on the beach and enjoy being a thousand miles away from both of you bohos."

"Oh, a snob, eh?" John asked as he kicked Tim in the rear.

"Too good for the likes of us, eh?" Wendy added as she backhanded him lightly.

"Wait a minute!" Tim said as he took a step back from them, "Can't I get a word in edgewise around here without you two beating the stuffing out of me?"

"No," the brother and sister unanimously answered.

Tim shrugged his shoulders and said, "That's all I want to know."

They heard somebody screaming from off in the distance and they realized it was Peter rapidly making his way back to the house. John went to open the door before Peter crashed through it and got it open just in time; Peter tore past his brother, his sister and his cousin, and ran up the stairs screaming. Nobody got what was going on, but John and Wendy followed after him, determined to find out what was the matter.

They followed him up to their room and didn't see him anywhere. Wendy opened the closet door and called in, "Peter?"

They heard a low voice hissing from under the bed, "Peter's not here."

"Oh no?" John asked as he hiked up one corner of the bedspread, "Then who are you?"

Under the bed he saw his brother reaching for something as he hissed in response, "I'm a fire breathing dragon."

John stood up and looked at Wendy and said, "Let me ask you a question, sis."

"Yeah?" Wendy asked.

He looked her in the eyes and asked, "Have I been a bad brother?"

She thought about it for a minute and answered, "No."

"Then WHY!" John kicked the metal bedstead, "Did I get stuck with a brother who_ always_ thinks he's a fire breathing dragon!?"

Peter stuck the top half of his body out from under the bed and sat up to look at his brother and sister as he answered, "Because a fire breathing dragon wouldn't be scared of the MPs."

They both turned to him, "What!?"

Peter nodded his head rapidly and said, "I saw them, I saw them, they're coming this way."

"Where?"

Peter pointed to the window. They could see that what he'd dove under his bed to get was a stun grenade they kept on hand for emergencies. Wendy went over to it and stood up on the sill and looked out. Over the tops of the trees she had a good view of the land behind the backyard and she saw two people in green coming their way.

"Oh great," she dryly said, and turning back to John she said, "Here comes your friend and mine, Decker and Briggs."

John went over to the window and looked out and he saw what she saw. As far back as he could remember, they had been in a neverending feud with Rodney Decker and Charles Briggs, the nephews of two colonels that their father knew from the army a long time ago. It seemed to be an ongoing war that had started long before any of them were born, and John imagined it would carry on with their kids and their kids and the ones after that, until they all were dead, maybe then they could figure out who started it. Rodney and Charles were 17 and 16, and the Murdock children assumed they took after their fathers in that both enjoyed dominating over smaller, weaker people than themselves. Presumably this was where _they_ came into the picture, as the older boys' intended victims due to their ongoing feud that seemed like something out of, as their father had put it, the Hatfields and the Cuckoo-Coys.

"So this time they're going to ambush us on our own territory," John said, "Now they're fighting dirty."

"Then we'll just have to get dirty right back at them," Wendy told him.

"Right, but how?" John asked. He scratched his head and then the plan came to him, he told Wendy and had her run to the stairs and call down, "Hey Tim! Do you still have those body bags your dad scammed from the morgue last year?"

* * *

Rodney Decker opened his eyes and saw he was lying on the ground, and he could feel the back of his head throbbing, the pain went clear down into his teeth. He pulled himself up and tried to figure out what had hit him, but all he saw was a trip wire he'd gotten his boot caught on, from that he figured he must've hit his head against the hard ground…or, he looked around and saw the large tree roots sticking up out of the ground and reconsidered that maybe one of them would've been hard enough to do the trick. That was when he realized that he was alone, he looked around and didn't see Briggs anywhere. Now where did _he_ get to?

"Briggs," he called out as he regained his balance and scanned the surrounding area, hearing no response he tried again, louder this time, "Briggs!"

He heard somebody calling off in the distance, but it didn't sound like Briggs, and he quickly realized it wasn't. He saw four people coming towards him and though he couldn't see them clearly, he knew who they were, well three of them anyway. He would know the Murdocks anywhere, unfortunately.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Rodney ol' boy," John said with a smirk as they stopped, "But we had our hands full with something else."

Decker looked past John and saw the girl and the younger boy had dropped something on the ground, something long and black. He stepped around them and saw it was a body bag and it looked like there was someone in it.

"_What_ is that?" he asked.

"What would probably be a closest guess," Tim said, "There's not really enough left to be a who anymore."

"What're you talking about?" Decker asked.

Wendy explained with an epitaph, "Here lies Charles Briggs, we knew him well enough to wish we didn't know him at all."

Rodney glanced down at the rubber bag again and saw how misshapen the lump was for supposing to be a human body. He looked back up at the others and said, "This doesn't look like Briggs."

"Would you care to look under the hood?" John asked, "I think you'll be surprised."

"Yeah, you remember how the song goes," Peter said, and he grabbed one ankle and started hopping around on the other as he said in a singsong voice, "The foot bone's connected to the ankle bone, connected to the leg bone, connected to the knee bone, connected to the thigh…" he stopped spinning when Wendy hit him in the head again and he said frankly, "Well anyway we didn't have enough pieces left over to put him all back together again, so what you see is what you're stuck with."

He looked back at the body bag and tried to process the information they had just given him. On one hand he couldn't believe that they could possibly be telling the truth…but on the other hand, he knew it wasn't beyond what they could do.

"You really _are_ insane, aren't you?" he said.

"Certifiably no," John shook his head, "But we're still psychotic enough to kill you here and now."

"And it sounds like a good idea to me," Wendy added.

All four of them lunged at Rodney and succeeded in grabbing some part of him and despite his resistance they dragged him off towards the backyard. Once there, they let go of Rodney and let him see the two large holes that had recently been dug _as_ well as the wooden marker at the head of one hole that read, 'Here lies Rodney Decker, he died as he lived, worthlessly.'

"What is that?" he demanded to know, though he already knew the answer and was suddenly finding it impossible to move.

"That's a grave," John answered with a smirk, "That's _your_ grave, Rodney."

They all grabbed a part of him again and pushed him toward the grave; he tried to break loose but before he could somebody clamped a rag over his nose and mouth and within a few seconds he was passed out on the ground.

"What _was_ that stuff?" Tim asked John.

"Chloroform," Peter answered, "Very easy to make."

"So now what do we do with them?" Wendy asked as she grabbed Rodney by his feet and started dragging his body along the ground.

"Well there's a train currently stopped on the tracks down a mile from here," John explained, "Freight cars, we can open one of them up, stick these two suckers inside and send them off to wherever the train's going…they ought to be waking up by the time it reaches the state line."

"It's a plan," Wendy said.

"Yeah but _how_ do we get them down there?" Tim asked.

John only stared at him in response and Tim got what the punch line was, "Oh no," he shook his head, "We're not taking them in _my_ car."

"It's either that or you push them in a wheelbarrow," Wendy told him, "And the train leaves in 20 minutes."

"Come on, let's move them," Peter said as he disappeared around the tool shed where they'd dumped Briggs after they knocked him out as well.

"Alright," Wendy groaned as she continued to drag Rodney, "But I say next time we use plan number 532."

"What's that one?" Tim asked.

"That's where you stick them into a giant wicker birdcage and hoist them over the barbecue pit until they're a couple of nice crispy critters," Wendy said, "You hang around here more often and you'll learn the plans. There's just one thing I'd like to know."

"What's that?" John asked.

Wendy pointed to the body bag and asked, "Just _what_ are we going to do with a hundred and fifty pounds of potatoes?"

"Never mind that," Tim shook his hand, "How're you going to get those holes filled up again before your parents get home?"

"We won't have to worry about that," Peter said as he dragged Charles on the rocky ground, "Those were already there."

"How come?" Tim asked.

"Dad dug those to catch us when we tried sneaking out of the house at night," Wendy said, "He's too smart, he made them too high for us to climb out of."

"Fortunately," John recalled, "Somehow he always seems to be just behind us when we fall in." He turned to his sister and asked, "You don't suppose he _does_ have ESP do you?"

"Among other things, I'd say that's a safe bet," she answered, "He might not be crazy anymore like when he was younger, but he's definitely _something_."

"Yeah well when you find out what it is, let the rest of us know," John told her as he grabbed Rodney's top half, and Tim grabbed Briggs' feet and helped carry him out to his car in the front.

"Never a dull moment around here, is it?" Tim asked.

"All just status quo around here," John answered.

* * *

They had gotten rid of Decker and Briggs and gotten home just in time to beat their parents by a good ten minutes. Murdock pulled their car up into the driveway and as they got out they were talking amongst themselves.

"Well it was nice to see everybody again," Murdock said.

"Sure, but I didn't like when they started talking about coming out here for our anniversary," Jean replied, "Incidentally, _when_ is it?"

"You don't remember?" Murdock asked.

Jean shook her head, "I can't remember if it's when we really first got married, or when we went back and made it official for everybody else's benefit so they could be present for it."

"Oh well," Murdock shrugged, "Doesn't matter…incidentally though, _how_ long _have_ we been married?"

Jean stopped in her tracks and took a minute to think about it, "Well let's see, Peter is 14…so that makes it…about 17 years now."

"Been that long already has it?" Murdock asked, "Go figure."

They walked around to the backyard where they saw the kids doing something over by the picnic table. Murdock crept up on them and yelled suddenly, "Ya-ha! Look alive! ATTENTION!" And all four kids jumped straight and saluted. Murdock couldn't resist grinning as he continued, "At ease," they loosened up and lowered their right arms, "About face!"

"What about my face?" Tim asked.

"It's facing the wrong direction, genius," Wendy said as she smacked him.

They turned around and saw Murdock standing behind them and he asked them, "So what have you four horrible little _monsters_," he grinned at them, they had known that joke since they first learned to talk, "Been up to while we were gone?"

"Oh…" John glanced at the others and then back to his father and answered, "Nothing much out of the ordinary, Dad."

"That's good," Murdock clapped his hand on his eldest boy's shoulder and said, "Come on now, everybody into the car, we're going to take a little trip out to Beverly Hills and visit Grandpa."

"Oh yeah?" Wendy asked, "Is Maggie going to be there too?"

"Why do you call her that?" Murdock asked his daughter.

"Because if you call her Grandma, she'll kill you," she answered.

Murdock chuckled and looked to Jean as he said, "They learn fast, don't they?"

Jean nodded and said, "Murdock, turn to the side."

He did and asked her, "Why?"

Jean only responded, "Now stick out your tongue."

Murdock did, and asked, "Na' whut?"

_Jean gave him a light shove and instructed the children, "Alright, everybody fall in and follow the human zipper."  
_

That was the last clear thought Hannibal had before he was aware of an outside voice talking, and he realized somebody was talking to him. He tried to wake up to see who was speaking but his eyelids still felt like they each weighed 200 pounds. Well, let them wait, he thought as he tried to slip into another dream.

* * *

Face thought he was losing his mind when he heard somebody laughing, but he looked down the hall and saw it was Murdock and Jean coming back from the vending machine and he saw they both had their arms loaded with candy bars.

"Where've you guys been?" he asked.

"You should've seen this guy," Jean pointed to Murdock, "He was right…he managed to shimmy into the back of the vending machine and steal all the candy bars, and then replace the back of it again so nobody would know the difference. At a quarter a candy bar I guess he must've made off with a $30 haul."

"Has anybody said anything yet?" Murdock asked as they dumped the candy bars on the coffee table the magazines rested on in the waiting room.

"Yeah," Face nodded glumly, "A nurse came out and explained that they're having to do a little additional surgery."

Jean and Murdock both wore the same shocked expression and she was the first one to ask, "What do they mean _additional_ surgery?"

Face huffed and explained, "They said they found some scar tissue that was starting to wrap around his intestines so they had to remove it."

"How did that happen?" Jean asked.

Face scratched his forehead anxiously as he replied, "I'm not exactly sure. A few months back Hannibal was injured in an explosion and he did get a piece of steel lodged in his gut, we got him to a doctor and had it removed."

"That Maggie chick fix him up?" Jean asked as they sat down on the bench on either side of him.

"Yeah," Face nodded, "Anyway they said the scar tissue has grown and it was starting to choke his insides…" he shook his head, "I don't get it either, and the worst part is I'm not even sure they're telling us the truth."

"What?!" both of them about hit the ceiling when he said that.

Face pointed to the front desk, "They're watching us, they're going to make sure we stay here long enough that they can call in Decker and the MPs to haul us off."

"Oh yeah?" Jean stood up.

B.A. grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back on the bench and told her, "Sit down, mama, ain't nothing you can do."

"You want a bet?" Jean asked.

"Come on, Jean, be realistic," Face said.

"Why should I start now?" she asked, "Face, all we have to do is get in that operating room and make it clear that either they fix Hannibal up right or there's going to be a room full of dead bodies before this night's over."

Face started to ask how she proposed they do that when Murdock dropped a bombshell of his own and said, "I know what room they've got Hannibal in, I also know where the linen closet is they keep the extra scrubs in. We could go in looking like three more doctors and take them hostage."

"This is scary," Face mentioned to B.A., and suddenly didn't like being sandwiched between these two people. B.A. just nodded his head and looked from one to the other.

"Murdock, how do you know that?" Face asked.

"That's what I was doing earlier," he said, "I found out what operating room Hannibal's being worked on in, it would be very simple to get in there, then we could find out the truth."

"Look, how long's he been in there?" Jean asked.

Face checked his watch and sighed, "About an hour and a half."

"Does that sound like an appendectomy to you?" she asked him.

"We've got another problem," Face said, "The minute we're all gone from this waiting room, that nurse is going to ring up the army and then we'll be surrounded, there'll be no way out."

"Fine," Jean said, "B.A. can stay here, the scrubs wouldn't fit him anyway, he's too fat."

"Hey," B.A. growled warningly.

"They're either going to tell us how long this surgery is going to take or I'm going into that operating room and finding out directly," Jean said.

She started to stand up again but Face grabbed two handfuls of her shirt and pulled her back down and told her, "Sit down! Now look!" he looked at her, then to Murdock, and said, "We're all worried about Hannibal, we all want to get him the hell out of here but we have to have a plan."

"Well what do you think we're doing?" Jean asked.

"No," Face swung his leg over hers to pin her down and keep her from getting up a third time, "We have to be smart about this. We'll wait, and if they haven't come out and told us he's out of surgery within…20 minutes, _then_ we'll go raid the OR, but only then, understand?"

"Yeah," Jean replied dryly, the wind suddenly gone from her sail.

"Yeah," Murdock agreed in the same glum tone.

"Good," Face said.

The time passing excruciatingly slow and since nobody had much of anything left to say to anyone else, the only thing they could do to pass the time was eat. After a few minutes Face noticed the dent they'd made in the candy bar stash. He didn't remember eating them but he knew he'd had a couple, B.A. had had a couple, Murdock was eating his like a bird pecked at a cracker, but Jean was mindlessly shoving another one into her mouth as fast as she finished the first one.

"Good grief," he commented as he saw the pile of wrappers in front of her, "You ate all of those already?"

Jean looked down at the wrappers as if she hadn't even been aware of it, and looking at one she replied, "Yeah, the weird part is I don't even like peanuts."

Face did a double take looking at her; he was almost certain that it was just her way of taking her mind off of Hannibal's current predicament, but all the same he wasn't entirely convinced yet that she _wasn't_ keeping a secret from them when she said she wasn't pregnant. Actually, the more he thought about it, she never even _said_ that she _wasn't_, she only hinted at it.

Jean picked up a sixth candy bar and started to take the wrapper off but Face grabbed it away from her and said, "I think you better quit before the sugar shock kicks in and you go into a coma completely."

A few minutes later, Face's attention was drawn to a strange sound he heard close by. Turning his head he saw that Murdock was biting his nails. He couldn't blame the pilot for being nervous but he still couldn't help commenting, "Murdock, it's very unhealthy to bite your nails."

"Oh I know, Facey," Murdock told him, "It's alright, these are Jean's."

"What?!" Face turned and saw Jean had slipped her arm behind his back and Murdock had her hand in his as he continued to chew the nail on her left pinkie finger.

"That doctor better get out here soon," B.A. said, "'Fore we _all_ go crazy like that fool."

"Speak of the devil," Murdock said as he saw the doctor coming towards them.

Face was the first one to stand up, Jean moved closer to Murdock and they had their hands squeezed together as they got up; B.A. noticed that Jean was also squeezing something under her shirt with her free hand, but he didn't know what it was. They all got up and before the doctor had a chance to open her mouth they demanded to know what had happened.

"Everything's fine," she answered, "Your grandfather made it out of surgery just fine."

Murdock fell back on the bench and took Jean down with him, and he was the first to ask, "When can we see him?"

"He's being moved to a private room as we speak," the doctor told them, "But he's still unconscious."

"We're not going to ask him what destroyed the Hindenburg," Jean said, "We just want to _see_ him. _Alone_."

The doctor could see that she was outnumbered and no matter what she said, they wouldn't listen to anything except what they wanted to hear. She advised them that their grandfather would need plenty of rest so they couldn't stay long to bother him, but she agreed to let them see him and showed them where to go.


	5. Chapter 5

Everybody was anxious to see Hannibal and to know that he was alright but that didn't mean they were willing to take any chances. They forewent the elevator on the chance that it would mysteriously stall long enough for Decker to get there and then open up to a 20-piece MP set and went up the stairs to find Hannibal's room. As they reached the door the doctor had led them to, Murdock took a step back and said, "I don't think I can look at this."

Jean grabbed his arm and told him supportively, "Come on, it'll be alright," though it was obvious by the tone of her voice that she was forcing herself to keep moving forward just as much as she was him.

Face had the same feeling but as he was leading them he knew he had to carry on, so, swallowing a deep breath, he opened the door and put one foot in front of the other until he'd crossed over the threshold and stood in the room, slowly the others came in behind him.

Hannibal had just recently been brought into the room; he'd been cleaned up and dressed in one of the hospital's gowns and was lying on the bed with a blanket drawn halfway up him, and he was still asleep. But something had changed, they couldn't tell what it was but he suddenly looked a _lot_ better now than he had when they wheeled him off to surgery.

"Hannibal, you awake?" Murdock asked as he leaned over the sleeping Colonel.

"Murdock, get back," Face told him.

Jean grabbed Hannibal's wrist and wrapped both her hands around it and felt for his pulse, "Is it faster or slower while under anesthesia that's a good sign?"

"Which is it?" Face asked.

"…It's beating," she said for an answer, "I don't know what's normal for him."

Face looked at Murdock and B.A. as they all stood beside the bed hovering over Hannibal and he said, "I want to get a look at his scar, I have _some_ idea of what it should look like."

"Me too," Murdock nodded in agreement.

Murdock turned and saw Jean was standing right beside him and he raised his hand and covered her eyes. Jean grabbed his hand and pulled it back down, so B.A. took the lead and pulled her away from the bed and over to the other side of the room where she couldn't see while they took a look at the job the doctors had done on Hannibal.

"As far as appendix scars go," Murdock told Face, "That one 'sho is a beauty."

Face nodded, "Yeah I think everything's in working order here," and pulled the gown down and the blanket back up.

"What about the other thing?" Jean asked, "Can you see where they took out the scar tissue?"

Face nodded, "Just barely though, they must be using more improved surgical methods these days than they used to."

"Well?" she asked, "When's he going to wake up?"

"I don't know," Face told her, "It'll depend on how much stuff it took to knock him out."

"That's right," Murdock agreed, "Maybe he also woke up during surgery and had to be put under all over again, it happens more than people think."

"Nice to know I'm nothing special," Jean remarked.

A noise escaped Hannibal's throat, and everybody loomed over him again as if they were expecting him to croak. Another noise rose out of him and they realized it was a small grunt, like Hannibal was trying to clear his throat. He moved his mouth like he was just waking up with the typical morning cotton feeling in his tongue. He tilted his head further back against the pillows and though his eyes never opened, his mouth slowly formed into a large grin. All that was missing was a cigar clamped between those two rows of teeth and he would look like his old self once again.

"What's he grinning at?" Jean asked the others, who just shrugged and were just as clueless about it as she was.

Murdock was the only one who took a guess and made the suggestion as he shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe it's gas."

Jean disregarded that thought and reached over and gently shook Hannibal's shoulder, "Hannibal, are you awake?" But he didn't open his eyes and he didn't respond to the question.

"I think it's going to be a while," Face said.

"Fine," Jean said, "In the meantime we'll take shifts, one will stay here and watch him, and the others will go back downstairs and keep an eye on Nurse Bedpan and make sure she doesn't make any outgoing calls."

"Right," Face and Murdock agreed.

"But who takes the first watch?" Murdock asked.

Jean raised her hand, "I will, as soon as he wakes up, I want to have a few words with ol' 'Grandpa' here."

"Yeah well just let us know when he does," Face told her.

"Don't worry, when he wakes up you'll be the second to know," she replied.

* * *

Hannibal heard somebody in the room with him groaning, he opened his eyes and turned his head to the side and saw Jean was lying on the hospital bed next to his. She was halfway into the fetal position and looked like she was ready to drop dead.

"Hey kid," he weakly said, maintaining his ever persistent smirk that would in any other circumstance have Face ready to climb the wall, even though Jean was curled on her side with her back to him and couldn't see it, "What're you in for?"

Jean never opened her eyes as she answered, "Exhaustion."

"Oh yeah? What's the sentence on that?" Hannibal asked.

"Too damn short," Jean answered as she reluctantly rolled over and opened her eyes to see him. "Are you alright, Hannibal?"

"Well," Hannibal was slowly realizing where he was and putting together the pieces to the answer of why; he pulled up his sheet and looked down and then told Jean, "I think I will, yes…what're you doing here?"

"Fulfilling my word to Face and Murdock and B.A.," she answered, "I told them as soon as you woke up, I'd let them know."

"Where are they?" he asked.

"Out in the hall somewhere," Jean answered as she turned back on her side and laid down with her back to him. In spite of this however, Hannibal heard her perfectly clear as she told him, "Hannibal, you've got to talk to that captain of yours."

"Murdock? Why?" Hannibal wanted to know.

Jean turned back to him and answered, "He thinks you're going to die."

Hannibal started to laugh but it hurt him to try, and he asked her, "What?"

"Ever since you guys showed up on my doorstep, Murdock hasn't left your side for more than a few minutes, he's worried that you're going to die, he hasn't slept in three days, Hannibal, and because of that he's not letting anybody else sleep either," Jean told him as she got up from the bed, "He's about to drive us all up the wall but the worst part of it is if he doesn't get some sleep soon, he's going to get sick and then _he's_ going to be the one to die. I don't mind being an ex-wife but I'll be damned if I'm going to be a widow."

Hannibal nodded weakly and told her, "I understand. Would you mind _finding_ that husband of yours and sending him in here, preferably _alone_?"

"That's _just_ what I had in mind," Jean told him, "And by the way, I need you to clear something up with the others."

"What's that?" Hannibal asked.

"Before you were wheeled out to surgery, you told the doctors that I was about eight months pregnant," Jean told him, "And now I think Face and B.A. are starting to believe there's some truth to that."

"Oh, I see," he said with a slight nod, "No problem, I'll set them straight on the matter…uh, by the way, Jean…"

"No," she shook her head, "I'm _not_."

"Just checking," he grinned at her, "I don't mind admitting I'm wrong but first I want to make sure that I actually _am_."

You _are_ going to be alright, aren't you, Hannibal?" Jean asked.

"Oh sure, it's going to take more than a…" Hannibal lifted the blanket again and looked under it again, "Incidentally what _did_ they do to me?"

"They took your appendix out," she said as she headed to the door.

Hannibal started to nod in understanding then something occurred to him and he looked down again, "What, did they find two of them?"

"I'll explain it to you when I get back," Jean said as she left the room.

Hannibal lowered the blanket and looked around the hospital room. If you see one you've seen them all, they were all the same: cold, sterile, impersonal, uncomfortable, inconvenient, and run by a bunch of morons, _and_ he couldn't wait to get out of here, he was dying for a cigar.

He could hear Murdock's sneakered feet tapping against the tiling as he came to the room, and then the captain appeared in the doorway, looking very anxious about something.

"Captain," Hannibal said as he tried sitting up, "Would you mind coming in here, and closing the door behind you?"

He could tell that Murdock was ready to burst out of his skin and, if Hannibal didn't just have his stomach sewn up, would've probably leapt onto the bed and climbed on him, he was _that_ nervous about whatever was bothering him. The pilot shut the door and slowly, very nervously, walked halfway over to the bed and asked, "H-How're you feeling, Colonel?"

"Oh I'm doing alright," Hannibal said, "Come over here, Captain…no wait a minute," he took the pillow from behind his head and put it over his stomach, "_Now_ come over here."

Murdock did, but Hannibal noticed how he dragged his feet, like somebody had put molasses on the soles of his shoes. Murdock came over to the bed and hiked one leg up and sat sideways on the railing, but Hannibal could tell the pilot didn't dare touch him for fear of hurting him.

"I understand," Hannibal told him, "That you've been worried about me…would you care to explain why?"

Murdock sighed and looked down at the tiled floor and scraped the sole of one shoe against it. Hannibal reached over and lightly grabbed the younger man's arm to get his attention and said, "Want to tell me what's got you so upset?"

Murdock looked at him and said, "I've never seen you so bad, Hannibal…I thought you were going to die."

"Not for the first time I'm sure," Hannibal replied, "What was different about this time?"

Murdock broke the eye contact and glanced towards the floor again, it took him a minute before he answered, "I never want you to die, but if you were going to, I was hoping before it happened, I'd have a chance to say how sorry I was that I let you down."

"What?" Hannibal thought his fever must've spread to Murdock because he wasn't making any sense, far _less_ than B.A. would ever accuse him of making for sure, "What're you talking about, Murdock? What do you mean let me down? That…" he tried to sit up and fell back against the bed moaning, he grabbed Murdock's hand as he tried again, "That is a very serious accusation, Captain, don't you know that you boys could never let me down?"

"But I did," Murdock told him, "Or I would've if you did die. All I've been able to think about for the last four days is what you said when I got married."

Hannibal couldn't think that far back at that moment, so he relied on Murdock's memory instead to give him the answer, "What did I say?"

Murdock looked at him and said, "You said 'I'd like to have _some_ grandchildren before I die and the only way I can do that is through you guys'. If you died now, I'd never be able to do that for you."

Hannibal didn't know what to say for a minute. He ran his hand up and down Murdock's arm comfortingly as he tried to think how to handle this. He grabbed the upper part of Murdock's arm and pulled him down towards him, his stomach be damned; he gritted his teeth against the pain of having Murdock lean on him as he hugged the captain and told him, "I get it now…you and Jean are having your marriage terminated and that way there _wouldn't_ be any chance for you to have any children with her, even after I was gone, nothing left even for the legacy, is that it?"

Murdock hardly moved at all in response but Hannibal did note a slight nod of the head.

"Don't worry about it, Murdock," Hannibal said as he kept one arm wrapped tightly around the younger man and rubbed his back consolingly with his other hand, "For one thing I am _not_ about to go anywhere. You didn't really think you were going to get rid of me that easily did you?" He smiled at the small laugh he managed to draw out of Murdock with that comment. "For another, there'll be plenty of time for you to worry about having a family later on…besides, in the meantime I think I'll have my hands plenty full with the five of you I've got now."

Murdock went stiff in his arms and then pulled away from him and asked curiously, "_Five_ of us?"

"That's right," Hannibal counted off on his fingers, "You, Face, B.A, Amy, and of course Jean. She's already become a member of this family, that's not going to stop just because you two aren't married anymore."

Murdock gave a small, sad smile and he said, "I'm glad to hear you say that, Colonel, because I wasn't sure how we were going to get through that one otherwise."

Hannibal chuckled lowly as he patted Murdock on the back, "Incidentally, Murdock, there's something I'd like to ask you."

Murdock pulled away from him again and said, "Anything, Colonel, you just name it."

"Alright…I found out that when I was put under for the operation, I suddenly developed a _big_ mouth and may have said something about Jean being pregnant. Now she seemed deathly certain that she was not, so I'm going to ask you, are _you_ as positive about that as she is?"

Murdock didn't even need time to think about it. He nodded and said, "Oh yes, Colonel, as positive as your blood type."

"Just making sure," Hannibal told him, "I figured there had to be _some_ reason you were so sure there wouldn't be any children."

Murdock looked somewhere between shocked, offended and embarrassed as he said, "Aw Hannibal, you ought to know me better than that," he shook his head, "She's too young."

Hannibal laughed and replied, "And you're still a good friend to her, I'm sorry that you two feel you can't make the marriage last, but if this is what you truly think is best, you have my blessing on it." He raised himself up enough to lean over and kiss Murdock on the forehead. "Regardless, Jean was and is lucky to have had you for as long as she has."

"You think so, Hannibal?" Murdock asked.

"Why not?" he responded, "You both could've done a lot worse." A sudden wave of fatigue hit Hannibal and he felt himself starting to slip under again, and he told Murdock, "Go get the others, I want to have a word with all of you."

"Right!" Murdock tore out of the room and returned a few seconds later with the other three.

Hannibal weakly gestured from where he lay in the bed and told them, "Come over here, all of you." They approached the bed but Hannibal continued, "Come on, closer than that, you can do better than that, I'm not contagious, at least I don't think I am." They all stood hovering over him and he shook his head, "No good, all of you get down here where I can actually see you."

Murdock and Jean hovered over one side of him and Face and B.A. stood on the other side of the bed, by now they had all knelt down so much they were practically in Hannibal's face. He reached up and managed to wrap his arms around them and he told them, his voice tired and weak, "I love you all _very_ much," and pulling himself up he leaned over and kissed them each one by one. It was an act that took them all by surprise and even B.A. was too stunned to respond in any way resembling how he normally would with threats or grunts or growls. "I'm sorry I made you all worry about me so much," he continued. He lost his grip on them and fell back against the bed and closed his eyes.

"Are you okay, Hannibal?" Face asked as he grabbed the colonel's arm.

Hannibal slowly nodded and answered, "I'll be fine, I just need to rest for a while."

"Man already spent four days asleep and now he wants to go back to bed?" Jean whispered to Murdock.

"Makes sense," he replied, "This is the first time he can actually get some rest, the fever's gone, the foreign obtrusion has been removed, man wants to rest he has a right to rest, so let him rest."

"Why did that just make sense?" Face asked B.A.

Hannibal groaned as he succumbed to unconsciousness once again; Murdock, Face and Jean had all grabbed him at the last second as if in an attempt to bring him back but they knew that he wouldn't even be able to leave the hospital for a few days, so right now letting him get all the rest he could was definitely in his favor.

"Uh oh," Jean realized something.

"What is it?" Face asked.

Jean grabbed Murdock and said as she pulled him toward the door, "We'll be back in a minute!"

They took the stairs two at a time, Murdock didn't _know_ what was going on but he had a pretty good idea.

Downstairs the incoming traffic had slowed down for the night and the waiting room was practically empty. The young nurse working at the front desk decided to take that opportunity to call the number that had been left with her a few weeks ago when some men from the army came in to inquire about four fugitives who may have come in for medical treatment. When a search of the hospital had turned up nothing and nobody that they were looking for, one of the men had left a number with her, and a name, Colonel Roderick Decker, incase they ever _did_ come in.

She kept her voice down when the other end of the line was picked up and she said into the receiver, "Get me Colonel Decker…" she raised her voice a bit louder, "I said Colonel Decker, I'm calling in regards to…"

She never got to explain _why_ she was calling because somebody snatched the receiver out of her hand and she turned around and saw Murdock yanking the curled cord out of the receiver. Behind him, Jean had a gun drawn on the nurse and raised a finger to her lips, making it very clear that if she tried screaming for help, she was a dead woman.

* * *

Meanwhile, Face and B.A. had their own hands full with a nurse, one of them had come in to see if Hannibal was asleep and regardless of if he was or not she came over to the bed to see how he was doing and to take the pillow off his stomach and replace it behind his head. Hannibal had woken up and seemed to still be out of it a bit, but Face and B.A. suspected the colonel was pretending for the most part to go along with his role of the crazy grandfather. Hannibal murmured long ramblings under his breath with his eyes closed, and then suddenly he opened his eyes and told the nurse, "I want you to meet my grandsons, come over here Dirk and Dwight…come over here," he curled his finger towards them, "Dwight, Dwight…"

Face went over to the bed and grabbed Hannibal's hand and looked at him as he said, "Grandpa."

"Hmm?"

Face pointed at himself and said, "_I'm_ Dirk."

"Ohhh," Hannibal slowly nodded, "That's right…where's Dwight?"

"He…stepped out for a minute," Face told him.

"Oh," Hannibal said as he turned his head to the side and closed his eyes again.

"Are you in any pain, Mr. Tuttle?" the nurse asked.

"Noooo," Hannibal replied, "I just feel like my gut's been ripped open with a razor and I' _been_ left open to rot is all."

"We can have a morphine drip brought in if you think you can't stand the pain," the nurse told him.

"Oh no," Hannibal shook his head, "I'll be fine…" he laughed and said, "I crashed my plane in Korea and crawled for two miles on a broken leg and didn't need morphine then."

The nurse looked at Face who just spun his finger by his temple by way of explanation that the drugs his grandpa was _already_ on were making him cuckoo enough. The nurse nodded in understanding and said, "If he needs anything, just press the call button and somebody will come up."

"We'll remember that," Face said, "Thank you."

That nurse left, and a couple minutes later the door opened and coming in from the other direction were Murdock and Jean with another nurse between them. Hannibal opened his eyes and saw the young woman had her hands behind her back, most likely tied up, and noticed how Jean and Murdock had their arms interwoven with hers and they seemed to have put so much strength into it they were practically carrying her, her white shoes just barely touched the tiled floor anymore.

"Hmmm," Hannibal said with a weak grin, "I didn't know it was my birthday already."

"Ha ha ha, Grandpa," Jean dryly remarked as they put the nurse down, "Look who we found trying to place a call to our old friend Colonel Decker."

"Did you have any trouble with her?" Hannibal asked.

"Na, we disconnected the call before she got transferred," Murdock answered, "Faceman I think we may need your help with this one."

Face shrugged and went over to the nurse and said, "Well I'd like to apologize for any inconvenience that you…" she cut him off by slapping him across the face. He rubbed his stinging cheek and said, "Forget me, you need the Exorcist for this one."

"If you think you're getting out of this hospital _without_ a military escort you better think again," the nurse told them, "Somebody is going to catch on, somebody else will call them in."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Hannibal said, "Of course you realize that we can't let you go."

She didn't seem worried by that idea. "You think I'll go quietly?" She turned towards the door and hollered, "HELP! HELP!"

"Shut her up and get her in the bathroom!" Hannibal told the others as they grabbed the woman and shut her up. Face, Murdock and Jean all took a side and carried her into the bathroom, and after gagging her they shut her in with Face, and just in time because a moment later a doctor came in.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Tuttle?"

The fact that the doctor was in his 60s and looked about 20 years older said something to them that he had to be halfway towards senility if he thought that screaming was Hannibal.

"No, nothing's wrong," Hannibal said, and pointed at Murdock, "My grandson just likes to act out to get attention. Come over here, Dirk."

Murdock shook his head and said, "No, Grandpa, I'm Dwight!"

"Oh right," Hannibal replied. He turned to Jean who cut him off and said, "Forget it, Grandpa, you haven't been able to get _anybody's_ names right tonight, if you get _mine_ wrong too, I'm going to hurt you."

Hannibal glared at her and remarked, "Bloodthirsty ingrate. Sorry for bothering you, Doctor."

While he was there, the doctor decided to look him over and ask him a few questions, Hannibal responded as expected, he answers were simple and he cut the exam short before the doctor pulled the sheet down.

"Oh Doctor," Hannibal called as the old man was getting ready to leave the room.

"Yes, Mr. Tuttle?"

"I have a nephew, his name is Roderick Decker, he's in the army and thinks he's a big deal now…if he comes to this hospital, please be a dear and don't let him know where I am. He would be only too happy to see me pushing up daisies so he can get his inheritance. He's a manipulative one though, he may try to trick you into revealing my room by using other names, so don't let yourself fall for it."

"I'll pass the word along, Mr. Tuttle, goodnight," the doctor said.

Hannibal had a big grin on his face that spread from ear to ear as he replied, "Goodnight, Doctor."

A minute after the door closed and they heard the doctor's footsteps descend down the hall, Hannibal raised his head and called to the bathroom door, "You can come out now, Face."

The door opened and Face stuck half of himself out, revealing in the light of the room the lipstick marks on his face and he said, "Uh…I'll be with you guys in just a minute, okay?"

As the door closed they saw the nurse pull him back and the door closed with a pronounced slam. Murdock smirked and said, "I guess the power of Face compelled her."

Hannibal chuckled weakly, then he looked up at B.A. and said to him, "B.A., get a change of my clothes out of the van and bring them up here, I'm getting out of here."

"Oh no you don't," Jean shook her head as she and Murdock went over to the bed, "We caught one lucky break already getting you here before your appendix blew like Mt. Vesuvius. And with the additional surgery they had to do, you're going to have to stay in bed for at least three days before we can get you out of here. You might be willing to gamble with your life, Hannibal, but _we're_ not."

Hannibal looked up at the Captain, the Staff Sergeant, and the honorary corporal, and he said finally, "Alright, I'll stay on in this butcher shop for a couple of days to please you, but _still_ get my clothes, I'm _not_ going to wear this ridiculous gown the whole time I'm here."

* * *

Hannibal's mind was willing to get up and get dressed as soon as possible, but his body had other plans and he had to rely on help from Face and Murdock to stand up long enough to get his pants on.

"Alright Jean, you can come out now," he called to the bathroom door once he finally got dressed.

The door opened and Jean and the nurse stepped out each with a cigarette in their hand, both of them laughing and starting to walk like they were drunk.

"So then," Jean told the nurse, "Murdock comes out in a bathrobe and shower cap, and Face just about swallows his lip, cuz they've got to convince the cop that he's his wife. You should've seen it, you would've believed it, these two guys are _exactly_ like an old married couple, they've certainly been together long enough. Over 10 years now don't you know? And still no children."

"And what about you?" the nurse asked.

"Hey," Jean sneered, "If one more person accuses me of being pregnant I'm going to…"

"I mean," she said, "How is your marriage with him going so far?"

"Oh that," Jean said, "Not so well…we're going to be ending it soon."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah well don't go getting used to the idea," Jean warned her, "There's a lady in Jakarta coming back soon who's going to be the next likely candidate."

"What about Face?"

"Oh Face can't marry Murdock," Jean said, "They already tried it once, it didn't work, I should know, I was there to perform the ceremony."

The nurse glanced at her watch and said, "Ah shoot, I've got to get back to the front desk." She stubbed her cigarette out in a potted plant on the small dresser by the window and headed for the door, "I'll see you guys round, goodnight Mr. Smith, I hope you feel better soon."

"Goodnight, Lorraine," Face called after her.

Once she was gone and the door had closed, Hannibal turned to Jean and said, "Now I can understand how _Face_ got her to warm up to him…but how did _you_ manage to do it?"

"Oh really, Hannibal, you disappoint me," Jean told him, "You ought to know that anybody can be thawed out with patience, the right attitude…" she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small bottle, "And a little whiskey. Get that down any woman's throat and she's putty in your hands."

"If I would've tried that, I'd get smacked for it," Face noted.

"Rightfully so," Jean replied as she balled her hand up into a fist, "And you _still_ will if you try it."

Hannibal was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed and trying to push himself up, but his attempt only resulted in him falling back on it.

"Murdock, help me up," he said.

"What's the matter, Hannibal?" the pilot asked as he went over to the bed.

Hannibal groaned and clutched his stomach, "I need to get up…the sooner I can start walking around, the better off I'm going to be."

"It don't look like it's doing you much good as it is," Jean noted.

Nevertheless, Murdock helped Hannibal to his feet and had the Colonel lean on him as he slowly walked around the bed, groaning and cringing with every step he took. He managed to circle the bed three times before he looked like he was having his guts cut open with a rock.

"Alright Colonel, that's enough for tonight," Murdock said as he helped Hannibal ease down on the bed instead of dropping on it, "We'll start on the other 17 laps tomorrow."

"Thanks, Murdock," Hannibal groaned.

* * *

Hannibal had no recollection of falling asleep, but he woke up sometime during the night and saw the room was dark except for lights from the street pouring in through the window. It lit the room up enough that he could see he wasn't alone. The first thing he saw was the teddy bear that somebody had put in his bed with him, that sometime in the night he'd gotten his arm wrapped around. He had to laugh, Murdock's Bogey bear, that was just like the captain. He put the bear aside and sat up in the bed to look around the room. There was a second bed in his hospital room, and Jean and Murdock had occupied it for the night; one thing Hannibal had found out was that these hospital beds were _not_ made for two people, so it was a very tight fit and they were practically lying on top of each other. Hannibal craned his head around and saw that his own bed was also crowded for the night, Face lay right beside him and was in a deep sleep that Hannibal's moving around on the mattress couldn't wake him up from. Hannibal forced his neck to turn a little further to see that B.A. had fallen asleep in two chairs placed by the door, so nobody could come in, and nobody could get out.

With some difficulty, Hannibal managed to sit up in the bed and get a better look at his surroundings, and the present company. This seemed oddly familiar, and he thought back two months ago when he had a chunk blown out of his shoulder, and he'd woken up to find all of these people asleep in a dogpile on the floor, practically at his feet. Well, this was _marginally_ better than that, at least everybody was spread out somewhat this time. He looked over to the other bed and saw how close Jean and Murdock were to one another, like a couple of bookends. They fit together so well that they looked like they'd always belonged together. Then Hannibal looked to the lieutenant in his own bed; Face's age, or lack thereof, never showed more clearly than when he was asleep, _peacefully_, which given their lives was a rarity. Hannibal almost laughed, Face looked so young in his sleep that it wouldn't be hard to imagine one of the nurses burping him and tucking him in for the night. Even B.A. seemed to be somewhat at peace when he was asleep; it was the one time of the day that they knew the man festered no grudges against any of them for anything they might've done, or anybody else for that matter. It was the only time he couldn't keep his mean exterior up for everybody else's benefit of intimidating them.

Boy oh boy, Hannibal thought, he never felt more like a father to these people than in this very instance. Here lying around him were four people who he knew had and would give up everything, risk everything, sacrifice everything in the name of his well being. It wasn't anything that he wouldn't do for any of them, or that any of them wouldn't do for another one, but it never seemed to mean so much as in this very moment. He wasn't accustomed to having his men injured, but he was even less accustomed to being the one taken out of commission by any kind of medical problem. He'd served in two wars, he had learned early on how to be hit and keep moving, keep fighting, keep planning, it was what he'd always done, this was something he wasn't familiar with and he hoped he never did.

There had never been any question about it. If anything ever happened to any one of them, there would never again be the A-Team, it would die with whoever went first, and realistically speaking he knew it could be any one of them, but he was the oldest and it gave him a sinking feeling of just who the most likely member was for that. It was something that he never gave much thought to, he'd always managed to avoid the subject, but now that he was in the presence of these people who he knew had spent the last few days going out of their minds with worry for his sake, just how much deeper it actually went. Whether it had ever been intended or not, he _was_ the father to these men, they were his kids, and the day something happened to him, they would be lost, just as he would be if he should ever lose any one of them.

Hannibal turned and looked down at Face who was sleeping like a baby. He ran his hand through the young man's hair, leaned down and kissed his lieutenant on the forehead. While he was already down, he whispered something into Face's ear, even though he knew the man couldn't hear him. Satisfied with saying his piece for the night, Hannibal pulled back over to his own side of the bed and laid down again and tried to fall back asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Hannibal kept his eyes closed as he felt a wet towel buff over his face like he was a shoe being shined. In lieu of a nurse coming in to give him a sponge bath, Murdock had offered to get the colonel cleaned up, insisting that he didn't want to use the shower in the bathroom either; Murdock's official reasoning was that it was haunted by six ghosts who had been dropped down the hospital's dumbwaiter to the laundry room many many years ago. In spite of this warning however, it hadn't stopped Face or Jean from using the shower to freshen up; it was obvious that until Hannibal was able to get out of the hospital and go home that _nobody_ was going home. And though things had been smoothed over between Hannibal and Murdock, the captain was still hesitant to leave the colonel alone for very long, and Hannibal suspected they would stay that way until he could go home. For the time being, he was the _only_ person in the room with Hannibal; B.A. had gone to make sure nothing happened to his van during the night, Jean had gone to make a phone call to the movie studio, and he had personally sent Face out to run an errand for him.

"Keep yer eyes closed, Colonel," Murdock told him, "I'm gonna rinse now."

Hannibal held his breath as a cup of cold water was poured over his face, immediately followed by a fluffy dry towel wiping him off. He opened his eyes and said, "Thanks, Murdock."

"You're welcome, Hannibal," Murdock replied as he put away the towels, the soap and the disposable razor he'd used to shave him, "You need me to wash your hair too?"

"No thanks," Hannibal said as he reached for his shirt, "I'm going to get dressed now."

"You decent, Hannibal?" Jean asked as she entered the room.

Hannibal glanced under the blanket and said, "Decent enough," as he sat up and slipped his shirt on, "What's up?"

"I was just thinking," she said, "If you feel up to moving around today, it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to put you in another room."

"Oh, you have something in mind?" Hannibal inquired.

"The isolation ward for tuberculosis patients," Jean said, "Believe it or not it's just down the hall on this floor. I've timed the run, we could move you down there in three minutes, five tops, that way if Decker did come here, he'd never find you because even he isn't stupid enough to go in a place like that and risk having people cough on him."

Hannibal smiled cockily and said, "You really think Decker's going to come out here?"

"Who knows?" she replied, "We got that nurse off the phone before she could be transferred to him, but come on, Hannibal, somebody calls for Decker in the middle of the night, it can only mean one thing."

"It's trash day?" Murdock asked.

"Well, if they hadn't gotten here already, I don't think they will," Hannibal said, "Once the call was disconnected they didn't have any way to find out where it was coming from, no matter what the movies tell you."

"On a side note," Jean said as she went over to the bed and poked him in the arm, "I hear you've been giving the nurses a hard time and won't eat."

He flashed his usual smile at her and said, "What can I say? You were right about the lime Jell-o." He cringed at the very mention of it, and explained, "So I sent Face out to pick up some sandwiches for lunch, he ought to be getting back soon."

"Lunch at 9 o' clock in the morning?" Jean asked.

"Why not?" Murdock asked, "Back at the V.A. they'd wake us up for breakfast at 6 A.M. every day, now _who_ do you know that eats breakfast that early?"

"Somebody that hasn't been to bed yet," she answered.

Hannibal looked around the room as if he was trying to find something, or somebody, and he turned to Murdock and asked him, "Incidentally, Murdock, is Amy back in town yet?"

"I don't know, Colonel," Murdock shrugged, "We tried calling her last night when you were in surgery but there's no answer at her apartment."

"I don't think I've ever met this woman, Amy, have I?" Jean asked.

"No, I think you'd remember," Hannibal told her, "Maybe I'm just getting sentimental in my old age." He caught the smirk on Murdock's face at his joke, and he continued, "But I'm actually looking forward to seeing her again." He turned back to Jean and told her, "No offense, kid, but I could use the change of pace and there's a big difference in you and Amy Allen."

"Oh I could guess," Jean said, "And I can also guess what the difference is, and what it is is probably the same it that Clara Bow had that made her the It girl of the 1920s."

"What is _it_?" Murdock asked.

Jean leaned over and said the word directly into his ear. He grinned like a kid that discovered a naughty word and he said, "Yeah, I'd say that's a safe bet." He looked at her and said good naturedly, "Sorry, Jean, but I _do_ have to side with the Colonel on that one, I've seen how both of you look in a swimsuit and Amy _is_ the easier one on the eyes."

"Story of my life," she cynically replied.

Murdock chuckled at first, and then crooned as he reached over and cupped Jean's chin in his hand and kissed her, "Don't worry, darling, you know you don't have anything to worry about."

"I wish," Jean replied as she grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled it a little too tight to get his attention, "I'd be thrilled to have somebody to dump you on once we get done in court."

"Oh are you two still going through with that?" Hannibal asked teasingly, "I would've thought by now that you would've changed your minds."

"No, it's only fair," Jean shook her head, "He's not chained by the V.A. anymore and I won't have him chained to me either, marriage can be just as bad as prison."

"Except both have the benefit of conjugal visits," Hannibal said with a smirk.

"And then you have the matters of getting out of it," Jean said, "Murder is messy and divorce is messier, so it's better to get out when you can still have it declared as never existing in the first place."

"Well that's too bad," Hannibal told her, and with a big grin of remembrance on his face he told her, "I had a dream last night that you and Murdock were still married and you'd had three kids, two boys and a little girl who was always beating up her brothers."

Jean smiled for a second and replied, "That sounds like the kind of kid I'd have." Then her smile disappeared and she told him, "But if you keep having thoughts like that, I'm going to extend your stay in this hospital by a week."

Hannibal just lay in the bed and chuckled in response. "Incidentally, young lady," he said to her, "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"Ain't no work to get to," Jean shrugged her shoulders, "For one thing I'm currently on the unemployment line until something new comes along, and for another there is _nothing _coming along because of a writer's strike."

"Well that sucks," Murdock commented.

"There _was_ one role coming up that I thought about auditioning for but I don't know about it," Jean said, "The storyline is pretty vague, all I know is if I got the part I'd be running around like a damn loon, grabbing everybody I come across and ripping women's dresses open."

"Sounds like somebody I knew back at the V.A.," Murdock told her, "Of course after they put him in electroshock treatment a few times, he didn't do that anymore…didn't do much of anything anymore."

"Funny you say that," Jean said, and she alternated looking from him to Hannibal as she explained, "From what I understand of the role, this character is somebody that was put in the booby hatch because she _was_ acting this way and then after the treatments she only got worse. But they're trying to do it as a comedy."

"Weird kind of comedy," Hannibal noted, then he looked at Murdock and said, "I think it's time for my morning walk, Murdock."

"Right, Colonel." Murdock helped Hannibal to his feet and had the Colonel lean on him again as they made the rounds circling the bed again.

"So how're you feeling today, Hannibal?" Jean asked.

"Oh I'd say I'm doing better," he answered, "Though I had a horrible dream last night."

"Let me guess," she said, "The one where you're being chased by a giant banana."

"No, but you're close," Hannibal shook his head as they went around the bed again.

"Being chased by a giant ham sandwich?" Face suggested as he came into the room, his arm strategically placed against the side of his jacket to conceal the food he'd sneaked in past the nurses.

"I was wondering when you were going to get back," Hannibal told him, "Alright Murdock, I think that's enough for now."

"Is B.A. back yet?" Face asked as he put two brown paper bags full of sandwiches on the tray by the bed.

"Negative," Murdock answered, "We are sans angry mudsucker."

"I'll go look for him," Jean offered and left the room.

She got halfway down the stairs to the first floor when she saw B.A. hotfooting it towards her; he jumped up the stairs two at a time and hooked his arm through hers and dragged her back up the stairs with him.

"What's going on?" she asked.

B.A. didn't say anything until he got in the doorway to Hannibal's room and he told everybody at the same time, "Decker just pulled up out front."

"Showtime!" Murdock said as he grabbed Hannibal by the arm and started for the door.

"Couldn't trace the calls, eh?" Jean asked the colonel as they set to work removing everything from the room that could give them away.

* * *

Decker spent 20 minutes at the front desk talking to one nurse, and then spent an hour and a half arguing with three more nurses, two doctors, and an orderly whose build suggested he was a direct descendent to King Kong. It had started with a matter of finding the woman who had called for him last night, and progressed into a heated argument in which the other side firmly stated that nobody made any calls to anybody last night asking for him, and finally ended with the orderly threatening either he leave willingly or he be thrown out, and based on the way he was built, Decker knew to back off since he figured this guy could probably get him clear past the dumpsters before he hit the ground.

Retreating with his tail between his legs so to speak, Decker went back out to the car and slammed the door on his side. Crane glanced at him and asked, "Find anything, sir?"

"Everybody says that nobody made any calls last night," Decker told him, "But _somebody_ called…" he looked back to the building, "The only way we're getting in that place now though is if one of us gets shot."

"You think the A-Team is in there, sir?" Crane asked.

He looked at the building as if he was trying to see through the walls. "Usually when the A-Team makes a sudden stop anywhere for medical treatment, it's in and out…for them to still be there today…one of them would have to be on the verge of death."

Crane looked over at the colonel as if he was trying to see if this revelation had any effect on the man, and if so, whether it was rapturous or dismal. It was impossible to tell what was going through Decker's mind. A minute passed before Roderick exhaled sharply and said, "Hell with it, they already know we're looking for the A-Team, they wouldn't be stupid enough to play dumb with us now. If they _did_ stop in here last night, they'd have to be long gone by now. Let's get out of here."

* * *

Face watched as Decker's sedan pulled away and he let out a sigh of relief and gave the all clear to the others.

"Overall it's not a bad room," Hannibal commented about the isolation ward, "Though I'm glad it's not seeing any use today."

They got Hannibal moved back into his own hospital room and settled back in bed. They decided they would stay for one more day and then take him home, they figured that would be time enough for anything that planned to go wrong to actually do it, while they were still within the vicinity of a doctor and an operating room.

"Think he'll come back?" Jean asked Hannibal as she replaced the pillow on his stomach.

"I don't think so," he said, "He knows us well enough to know we don't linger anywhere, especially hospitals. And with good reason." He smiled up at them and said in his Mr. Lee philosophy but without the Chinese accent, "Doctors say a lot of things, but a wise patient learns to only pay attention to half of them and knows which half that is."

"You better be careful, Hannibal," she told him, "You're starting to sound like me."

The door opened and Lorraine, the same nurse that they'd kidnapped the night before, came in and said, "He's a real piece of work, isn't he?"

"He give you much trouble?" Face asked.

"Only about as much as everyone else," Lorraine said, "Needless to say if he ever gets shot and comes in here for treatment, he _will_ be taking a number."

"How about 55559?" Murdock asked, "I had that number on a lottery ticket once."

"Win anything?" Jean asked.

"No," he shook his head, "Figure we'd give Decker the same kind of luck."

Lorraine was putting her coat on and she said, "My shift's over so I'm going home to get some sleep…Mr. Smith, I hope you feel better soon."

"Thank you, miss," Hannibal replied.

"Oh by the way, Templeton," the nurse said as she stopped in front of the lieutenant and handed him a small piece of paper, "Here's my phone number."

"I'll give you a call as soon as my schedule lightens up," Face grinned as he pocketed the number.

"Everywhere he goes, he finds a woman," Murdock commented.

"So do johns," Jean told him.

Face turned and glared at her through one eye, but shrugged it off.

* * *

That afternoon Hannibal lay in bed watching a ballgame on TV and B.A. also watched from where he sat next to the bed; Face, Murdock and Jean were all seated on the other bed and in desperate need of something else to do. Murdock complained that the game wasn't too bad but he was having one hell of a time flagging down a vendor to get a hot dog and a beer. Face wasn't in the mood for another baseball game and Jean's only comment was that the game would be more interesting if instead of a ball, the batters swung to beat out the pitchers' brains. Everybody had been determined to stay with Hannibal until he was ready to go home but now the enclosed atmosphere and the constant company of the others was starting to get on everybody's nerves, and the idea of being bored to death was about to claim them all.

Shortly after lunch, Murdock disappeared from the room and promised he would be back in a little while. A few minutes later he returned with some sheets of paper and a couple bottles of ink that he'd stolen from the front desk when nobody was looking.

"What's that for, Murdock?" Face inquired.

Hannibal's attention was drawn to the other side of the room and he turned his head to see what was going on. With a knowing smirk on his face he only replied, "Uh-oh," and returned his attention to the game on TV.

"What is it?" Jean asked.

"I know something that we can do to keep ourselves amused," Murdock said excitedly as he set his supplies down on the tray by the bed.

Face was putting two and two together and looking up at the pilot with a very confused look on his face, he asked, "Ink blots, Murdock?"

"Yes."

"Wait a minute," Jean stood up from the bed, "I thought you didn't believe in all that ink blot junk, you said you always failed those tests because all you see is the ink."

"That is correct," Murdock told her, and elaborated, "The doctors would always show me the ink blots and expect me to see…I don't know, a butterfly, a squirrel, a centipede with 700 children all taking tap dancing lessons or something…" he shook his head, "But I never saw any of it. But I finally figured out what the problem was."

"Which is?" Jean asked.

"Those ink blots were created by somebody else who already had a mindset of what they were supposed to look like, I never knew who made them so I couldn't tune into his brainwave frequency and see what he saw. You can only see what's in the ink blots that you make yourself."

"So we're all going to make our own and see what we get, is that it?" Jean asked. Then she turned to Hannibal and asked, "But why were you laughing about that?"

Hannibal opened his mouth but Murdock cut him off, saying, "Aw, Colonel, don't tell her about that."

Hannibal smiled and shrugged helplessly and said, "I'm sorry, Murdock, but in any marriage there aren't supposed to be any secrets between spouses." He nodded his head to the side and said, "Come over here, Jean."

She did, and he had her lean down so he could whisper into her ear. When he had, Jean looked back to Murdock, who had pulled his cap down so low it about swallowed his whole face; she went over to him and poked him in the shoulder to get his attention and Murdock slowly pulled his cap up and said in a stuffy English accent, "Ye-e-e-es?"

Jean managed to keep a straight face as she asked him, "How do you make porno ink blots?"

Murdock managed to keep from laughing though his face cracked and he said, "It takes a little work. In my defense, it was a boring time at the V.A. that week, I got the idea one time when I was experimenting and I wound up with a naked woman ink blot."

Face was the first who thought to ask, "Exactly _how _do you see a naked woman in a blob of ink, Murdock?"

"Well you don't at first," he explained, "That's why you get the Q-tips from the doctor's office to use in lieu of a paintbrush."

Jean was laughing by now and said, "Alright, we'll try it, who knows? It _might_ be fun."

Murdock handed them each a sheet of paper and he showed them, "Pour the ink on the middle of the sheet, fold it over once, unfold it and you have an instant snapshot of what's on your mind at this moment." He went first and showed them how it was done, and when he opened the paper his eyes popped out and he exclaimed, "Whoo!" Then he closed it again hurriedly and said with a goofy grin, "If that's what on my mind, then I'm a baaaaad boy."

Jean stole his paper from him and unfolded the ink blot but clearly she didn't see what he was seeing. She turned it upside down, on its side, even turned it over and looked at the blank side, and she said, "You're right, it's every man for himself to see what's in these damn things."

* * *

Face had stepped out of Hannibal's room for a minute to get some air and as he walked down the hall he heard two people murmuring around the corner; he poked his head around and saw it was Murdock and Jean. They stood close to the wall and seemed to be having a disagreement about something but they were mumbling too quietly for him to make it out. So he walked over to them and said, "You want to keep the noise down? This is a hospital zone."

"We're discussing what to do when we take Hannibal back to the house," Jean said.

"What's there to discuss?" Face asked.

"Look," Jean told him, "It's obvious he's not getting any rest in this hospital."

"Well that's bound to happen when you've got four people in the room _with_ you at all times," Face pointed out.

"Exactly," Murdock said, "So we want to get the colonel home, and leave him alone so he can rest, now…" he pointed to Jean, "She says we should put Hannibal in our room."

"Why?" Face asked.

"It's the master bedroom, it's the biggest room with the most conveniences because it's the only one used fulltime," Jean explained, "We can clear our stuff out and put it in one of the guest rooms and stay there instead, we won't be put out much, and Hannibal's on the other side of the hall where he can't hear us as much when he's trying to sleep."

Face shrugged as he thought about it that way, "It sounds like a reasonable plan," he turned to Murdock, "What's the problem?"

"No problem, just what if he doesn't go for it?"

"More specifically," Jean replied, "What if he tries to sidestep his recovery altogether? What're we going to do then?"

"Uh…" Face thought about it and suggested, "Tie him back on the stretcher and put some of B.A.'s night-night pills in his dinner?"

The husband and wife duo looked at each other and considered the possibility and shrugged simultaneously as a mutual 'we'll see'. Jean pulled some change out of her pocket and went to get them some cokes from the machine, and after she had gone, Face inched over beside Murdock and said, "Murdock, can I ask you a question?"

"You may," he answered, "But I reserve the right to refuse an answer to you depending on what it is."

Face tried to think how to ask this without ruffling Murdock's feathers, and finally he settled for the blunt approach, "Why did you ever marry that woman?"

"You know why I did, Face."

"Yeah I know…I'm just wondering, if you had it to do all over again…would you?"

Murdock thought about it for a minute and nodded, "Yes."

"Why?" Face asked, "Why would you knowingly put yourself through all of that again? I've watched you the last couple of months, Murdock, ever since you decided to get it annulled. And you haven't yet, you're still married and it's still making you miserable. What could possibly make it worth all the trouble, and the pain, and the misery, why would you do that? What could possibly justify all that you've been through that it would be worth doing again?"

Murdock looked at him with his contemplative puppy dog eyes and, after pausing for a second to think about the question, he gave the simple, honest answer, "Love."

Face fell back against the wall. This little fact had been up in the air for the last couple months but never explicitly spelled out, but Murdock's answer hit him like a ton of bricks. Sweet heaven, he thought to himself, he's still in love with the crazy woman.

Murdock knew that Face had a big problem with the idea of commitment and therefore he didn't always see the plain facts right in front of him. But that was the simple truth of the matter; if Face had been looking for a more difficult answer, he could've told the other side of the truth, which was that his situation with Jean was similar to their situation with the military. They had been betrayed by their own comrades, and as a result had their homeland turn its very back on them through the people in its government; and yes as Amy had pointed out when she first met them, they could've gone to another country where nobody would hunt for them, in the short run it made a lot of sense and seemed like an answer to the problem, it would make their lives a lot easier, but the good thing they had going on here in their own country was worth the trouble they were currently having with the army, and he trusted in the long run would prove to be the right way for them to go all along.

Face about jumped out of his skin when a sudden voice behind him added, "Play the man, Master Ridley." He spun around on his heel and saw Jean standing behind him with three cans of Coke in her hands. He looked back at Murdock, and then at Jean, and at Murdock again and he realized that her comment seemed to have been directed at Murdock, not at him; and now it was as if they were conversing on the matter, telepathically.

* * *

"I just don't get it," Face told Hannibal the next evening as he got all of the colonel's belongings packed up, "It seems that Murdock is deliberately holding off the annulment."

"Now why would he do that?" Hannibal asked in a lighthearted manner, as if he already knew the answer.

Face didn't catch the tone of his voice and proceeded to explain, "It's like he's stalling so the time limit will run out and then he and Jean will _have_ to stay married, either that or they actually go through with a divorce. I don't get it, why would he do it?"

Hannibal watched Face pace around the room like a chicken with its head cut off and just smiled pleasantly. Then he said, "Face, let me ask you a question."

"Yeah?"

"When you were a teenager, did you ever take a girl out on a date and keep her out past her curfew?"

"Yeah, so what?" Face asked.

"Well…did you take her home as soon as you realized your lapse in time, or did you keep her out for all the date was worth since it was already late and you were already going to get in trouble anyway, so it might as well be worth the hell you caught for it?"

"Hannibal, I think you've been playing Mr. Lee for too long, I don't get what you're saying," Face told him.

Hannibal just grinned at him and said, "I remember being 17 and I kept my fair share of girls out past their deadlines…and sure enough every time we'd get home there her father would be on the porch with his shotgun waiting for us…I imagine the homecoming would've been the same whether it was ten minutes or two hours…but we had more fun with the two hours. Now…let me ask you another question, in more recent years," Face was already rolling his eyes, Hannibal smirked and continued, "You have your share of dates that end before the sun comes up and before going back to your place, you ever keep a woman out late even though she always has the excuse she has to get to work early in the morning?"

"Yeah."

"And _you_ also have the excuse you have to get to work early in the morning as well."

"Yeah, so what?"

Hannibal flashed his less than pearly whites and said, "Still more fun breaking curfew, isn't it?"

"You think that's what Murdock's doing now?"

"Well Face, let's be fair, the last time you or I had a date, and the last time Murdock had a date, are not comparable by any stretch of time."

That was true. While it was also true that Murdock _did_ have his fair share of having fun with the women on his leaves from the V.A., Face knew that there was _no_ comparison; Murdock had spent 10 years in that hospital while the rest of them were out free to go wherever they wanted and do whatever they wanted with whomever they wanted. With that in mind he really felt bad for the pilot, but it also made all the less sense why he would want to hang on to this marriage.

"It still doesn't make sense," Face told Hannibal, "Why would he stay in this marriage when it's causing him so much trouble, when he could be cut loose and free?"

"Like you?" Hannibal returned, "I seem to recall that when you were involved with a woman and Murdock managed to get between the two of you, it was _you_ he was trying to get alone. He hasn't had too many chances over the years to be with a lot of women, so he's settled for _our_ company, which is alright but it was reaching a point where it wasn't enough anymore, and it shouldn't be. Murdock's interests may be similar at times to yours but they are _not_ yours, Face…he was the first of any of us to get married, my guess is because that _is_ what he wants, who knows?" He enjoyed watching Face try not to squirm as he took in that smirk on Hannibal's face and what it meant, "Maybe if you tried getting married once, you'd actually enjoy it."

"Then _why_ did he say he wants to end it?" Face asked, "Does that make any sense to you?"

"I think you're forgetting who we're talking about," Hannibal replied, "In any case though, I think it does."

"How?"

Hannibal explained, "Jean never told her parents that she got married. Now, we know what Mrs. Rhodes has already been put through, imagine finding out that your only child got married two months ago and never bothered to tell you. If they get it annulled, it saves Jean having to break the news to her instead of if they'd get divorced."

"Right, but then why are they holding off on it?" Face asked, "For what possible reason?"

Hannibal shrugged and said, "It hasn't been an easy marriage, but I think it has been a good one for both of them. And we all know how hard it is letting go of a good thing."

"Well their time's running out," Face told Hannibal, "If they don't get to court soon, they _are_ going to be stuck together."

"All the more reason for us to get out of this chop shop as soon as possible," Hannibal said, "I understand I'm getting the master bedroom for the remainder of my recovery."

"How long do you think that'll be?" Face asked.

"Oh I'd say," Hannibal glanced at his watch, "Two days should probably do it. I never spent this much time in bed when I was a kid and got chickenpox. You know, the scary part is if it weren't for the current surroundings, I might actually start to like it."

"Alright, Colonel, it's checkout time," Murdock said as he and Jean entered the room.

"That's fine with me," Hannibal said as he finished tying his boots, "I'm getting fed up with this hotel service, there's no mint on the pillow, no room service, and the TV only gets basic channels, no late night movie."

"Speaking of which," Jean said, "I called the studio again and asked about that part I was telling you about, it's still open so I'm considering trying out for it."

"Oh that's good, tell Face about the role," Hannibal said as he walked out of the room.

"What role?" Face asked as he turned to her.

"A psychotically induced raging nymphomaniac," Jean said, "They're holding auditions tomorrow so I guess that means I better start rehearsing."

"Oh really," Face laughed nervously, "How nice." And then, less than subtly, he grabbed Murdock's shoulder and pushed the pilot in between the two of them.

* * *

"Are you sure you're comfortable like this, Hannibal?" Jean asked as she got the pillows propped up behind his head once they got him back to her house and in bed.

"Yes, yes, it's fine," he insisted, "I'm fine."

"Not yet," Face said, "The doctors said that you won't be able to do everything that you did before for another two weeks, so you're going to have to take it easy until then."

"I can take it easy," Hannibal tiredly replied with his eyes closed, "If certain people would _shut up_ I would be asleep already."

He had a point, it was long after midnight and everybody was tired and ready to drop dead from exhaustion. Everybody said their goodnights and left Hannibal in peace, and from there it was everybody to their own rooms. B.A. was settled in the guest room downstairs and Face was going to take one of the upstairs guest rooms and Jean and Murdock would take the other. They'd all gone downstairs, and once B.A. was in his room, that just left the three of them in the living room.

Face glanced at the clock on the wall and saw it was 12:30, he'd been up for 18 hours and was just looking forward to falling on his bed and sleeping clear through till tomorrow. His eyes half open, he turned to Jean and told her, "See ya in the morning, Jean."

She grabbed him by the back of his jacket and yanked him back and told him, "Before you go off to croak for the night, can you help me with something?"

"What?" Face asked.

Jean pointed over to Murdock, who had fallen asleep sitting up in a chair. She told Face, "He hasn't bathed since you guys got here, he hasn't changed his clothes once, that's five days."

"Try a week," Face told her, "He didn't do any of that before we got here either."

"He was too busy watching Hannibal like a hawk all week," Jean said, "You know if we weren't around him all the time he never would've left Hannibal's side long enough to eat or sleep."

"I know," Face nodded, "That's just the kind of person he is."

"Yeah well he's in no position to make himself a martyr," Jean replied, "Let's take him up to the bathroom and get him cleaned up before he goes to bed."

Face's eyes were wide open now as he look at her and asked, "Are you serious?"

"Come on, Face," she said, "How would you feel if you didn't shower for a week?"

Well, she had a good point on that one. The last time that had happened…well the last time that had happened was a couple years back on a mission that had them making an emergency landing in the jungle in the dead of summer and they had to stay on for a few days more than planned in order to obtain the necessary parts to fix the plane and get in the air again. Among the supplies they'd brought had been a bottle of rubbing alcohol incase any of them sustained any injuries they needed to clean out, but by the end of that week the bottle was empty for use as a substitute deodorant. Alcohol didn't keep you fresh as a daisy but it _did_ keep you from smelling like a stinkweed, but once they'd gotten back to civilization he had never been so happy to see an indoor shower with hot running water.

"Alright," he gave in, "Let's do it." He went over to the chair and tapped Murdock's cheek to wake him up.

"W-Wha-what is it, Faceman?" Murdock asked, barely even getting his eyes to open.

"Come on, Murdock," Face said as he pulled him to his feet, "We're going to go upstairs and play a little game."

Jean got on the other side of Murdock and helped Face escort him up the stairs.

"Oh that's fine…wha' game we playing, Face?" Murdock asked.

Face looked over to Jean and saw she was staring back at him, waiting to see what his answer was.

"We're going to play oceanfront resort," Face told him.

"Okay…" Murdock's eyes stayed closed and his head drooped on Jean's shoulder as he asked, "How d'we play?"

* * *

Murdock never became fully awake though once he got in the tub of borderline cold water his eyes were wide open and he was able to pay attention to what was going on. Face had already taken the courtesy to pour half a bottle of bubble bath into the water before shoving the pilot in it up to his armpits, insisting it was a substitute for the sea foam.

"Alright, Jean, you can come in now!" he called through the closed door.

Jean entered the bathroom and climbed on the edge of the tub so she was seated between the wall and the tub's faucet, and directly behind Murdock's head. She'd already taken her shoes off and rolled her jeans up to her knees so she didn't get completely soaked as she helped Face wash Murdock. It was one of the more unusual ways he'd spent the night in this house but, Face noted, not very awkward; after everything they'd been through together in Vietnam, and everything since, there wasn't too much that could surprise him when it came to personal matters. In fact, he'd never admit this to anybody, lest Murdock get any new ideas, but right now this didn't strike him as being too different from washing a dog.

Jean picked up a washcloth, dipped it in the water and foamed it up with a white bar of soap and had Murdock tilt his head back and close his eyes as she washed his face first.

"You might not look better when we're done here," she told him, "But you'll definitely smell a hell of a lot better."

Murdock chuckled through a closed mouth when she said that. Then she dipped a plastic glass into the water and poured it over him, and he sputtered like a motorboat engine about to die. Face watched with mild amusement from where he was knelt down at the other end of the tub. He'd noticed that this tub tended to slant so the water was higher by the taps so that was the way he'd gotten Murdock in the tub, with the higher water level halfway up his back, and the lower level just enough to cover his legs and feet, not that it mattered much right now because nothing could be seen through the millions of bubbles covering the surface. Then he caught sight of Murdock's toes sticking up, so he grabbed a nail brush in one hand, and with the other grabbed one of Murdock's ankles so he could clean the pilot's foot. He couldn't resist tickling the sole of Murdock's foot and watching him jump in the water and laugh.

Jean had Murdock lean forward and she proceeded to soap up his shoulders and his back before rinsing them off as well. Then she grabbed him by one arm and raised it up and scrubbed under it and he started jerking in the water again and shrieked laughing.

"Quit squirming," she told him as she moved over to the other arm and repeated the act.

However Murdock only became more rambunctious when he felt the brush tickling his feet and he started kicking as well. Then he raised up both arms and shrieked, "I surrender, I give up! Whatever I did, I did it!" he laughed and struggled with both of them holding onto him, "Let me go!"

"Oh we can't do that," Jean playfully told him, "We're not done with you yet."

"No, no, uncle!" Murdock laughed, "I surrender!"

Jean wrapped her hand around the front of his neck and had him lean back and she ran her finger around the crook of his neck and saw a ring of black gunk had formed since the last time he'd gotten cleaned up. She found the washcloth and scrubbed it off and commented, "Only guy I ever saw that could get ring around the collar without a collar!" And from there it was a short detour down to his chest and once again Murdock started thrashing around in the water laughing like a banshee shrieks.

"How come you don't do this when you shower?" Jean asked him.

"It's a known fact you can't tickle yourself," Face told her, "That's why."

She looked over to him and asked, "How do you know, have you ever tried it?" She returned her attention to Murdock and commented, "I'm guessing when you were in the hospital you never tried asking one of the nurses for a sponge bath."

Face grabbed one of Murdock's hands and noted that the man could stand to have his nails clipped, but that would wait until tomorrow and for the time being he just settled on scrubbing the black crud out from under them with the brush. Then he did the other hand and got it clean enough to match the other. Lastly, Jean had Murdock tilt his head back and she turned on the taps with the late warning, "Waterfall!" and ran her nails over his scalp. He groaned and twitched when her nails came in contact with the scabs on his head and she told him, "You shouldn't have scratched your head so hard, Murdock."

"I couldn't help it," he told her, "I itch when I'm nervous."

Jean held her hand in front of his face and let him see her nails had been cut down, almost too short in fact, and she told him, "You're just lucky I already clipped them." She quickly washed his hair and rinsed it out, and then found the lever that pulled up the drain. She grabbed Murdock under his armpits and helped lift him up and Face wrapped one large towel around him that covered him from under his arms clear down to his knees, then as he stepped out of the tub Face tossed another towel around him, this one over his shoulders and arms.

"One more," Jean said as she took a third towel off the hook on the door and draped it over his head. They got on either side of Murdock and walked him out of the bathroom and back over to the bedroom and once inside, Jean grabbed the third towel and ran it back and forth over the top of Murdock's head as he sputtered and yelped and shook. When Jean removed the towel, his hair was sticking up and out in all directions; he caught a glimpse himself in the mirror and grinned, and he told them, "Hey, I like this look."

"He looks like he got electrocuted," Face told Jean.

"That's very easy to fix," she picked a comb up from the dresser and combed through his hair and made it all lay down flat on the back of his head, and when Murdock saw that he pulled his top lip in and pouted. He closed his eyes and laid his head on Face's shoulder.

"I think it looks nice on you, Murdock," he said. The man might've been declared sane but he still had his moments when he was _very_ temperamental.

"You think so?" he asked as he lifted his head and looked at his reflection again.

"Perfect," Jean answered, she leaned over to the lieutenant and told him, "Hey, thanks, Face, I really appreciate it."

"Yeah well…it's definitely one of the weirder ways I've spent an evening," he said.

"Ain't evening," Jean told him and pointed to the clock, "It's almost one in the morning."

"So it is," Face realized, "I'm going to bed." He leaned over and kissed Murdock on the forehead and told him, "Goodnight, Murdock."

"Goodnight, Face," Murdock replied as he pulled the towel tighter around his shoulders.

Face then stepped over to Jean and paused for a second, then extended his hand and said smartly, "Goodnight, pal."

Jean shook his hand in like and said, "Goodnight."

Once Face had left and closed the door behind him, Jean turned to Murdock and said, "I guess we ought to go to bed as well."

"Sounds good to me, I'm tired," Murdock told her, "Where're my clothes?"

"In the laundry," she told him, "You can get them back tomorrow."

"Okay."

Jean lightly shoved Murdock over to the bed and pulled the covers back and playfully pushed him down since he was still cocooned in both towels and couldn't get his arms out at the moment. She pulled the covers up over him and then went around to the other side of the bed, climbed in and lay on top of the covers on her side.

"Saint?" Murdock said, lifting his head off the pillow but unable to turn around to see her.

"Yeah, Murdock?" she asked.

"I love you," he told her.

She smiled weakly and replied, "I love you too, Murdock."

"I love you," he said again as he hit his head against the pillows, "I don't care if we are married or not, I still love you."

"I still love you too, Murdock," she told him, "Now go to bed."

"Okay," he said as he settled down and closed his eyes.

Jean waited until she was sure he was asleep, then she inched over to the middle of the bed and wrapped her arm around where she knew his waist was, and she laid her head down on the lump that she knew was his shoulder under the covers, and after a minute she squeezed her eyes shut and turned to bury her face in his shoulder. Time was running out and she knew it, she'd tried not to think about it and she knew Murdock had tried not to think about it either. It had been easier not to think about it when they thought Hannibal was dying and everybody was worried about him, but he was out of the hospital now and was going to be alright, and now reality was kicking in again, much as they'd both tried to fight it. They both knew that when the time came, no matter what they did, which decision they made, they were going to lose one way or another, it was just a matter of how bad it was going to be.

Murdock felt something hot pressing on his shoulder and he realized it was Jean. After a couple of tries, he wrestled his arm loose from the confines of the towels and the blankets and got it out from under the covers and reached behind him and felt Jean's ribs and decided it was as good a place as any and planted his hand there so she could feel him, could feel the contact.

"Jean, you awake?" he asked, though he knew she was.

"Yeah," she glumly answered as she picked her head up off his shoulder.

Murdock wriggled around in his cocoon of towels and sheets so he could turn his head and look back at her and he said, "You know something, Jean?"

"What?" she asked.

He gave a little smile and told her, "I've got a plan."

Dangerous words to come out of anybody's mouth, but one of the A-Team especially, and Murdock all the more so; dangerous because everybody always underestimated him, nobody ever knew just how sane of a plan could come from an insane person. Even Hannibal, their fearless leader, the man who had nothing but the fullest confidence in all of his men, had had his share of times he shook his head and insisted, 'No it wasn't!' when he found out about a plan that was Murdock's.

Jean leaned over towards him and asked, "What is it?"

Author's note: If anybody's curious, I can't take credit for the 'porno ink blot' line, it was in the novelization of the A-Team written by Charles Heath. I just decided it was too funny of a line not to expand upon.


	7. Chapter 7

Hannibal was starting to think he was better off taking his chances in the hospital. True, the bed in Jean's room beat the hell out of that backsore he was stuck in for three days, but the service was comparable to the stockades; every time he tried to get up and leave the room and do anything, all he got was a four-man escort right back into the bed.

"Now look," he told the four people hovering over him, "I'm hardly about to run out and sign up for hang gliding lessons…" He caught the smirk on Murdock's face at that suggestion, and added, "But I _would_ like to get out of this damn bed and move around."

"Sure, we've all heard that one," Face said, "First it's just a little walk around the yard, and then the next thing we know we get a call from the ER because they found a man lying in a ditch where he crashed trying to clear a five mile run because he feels a sadistic need to always be in tiptop shape."

Hannibal grunted and remarked, "You know me too well."

"Get this straight, Hannibal," Jean stuck a finger so close to his face she about rammed it up his nose, "The doctor said you need to take it easy for two weeks, and if you don't then you're going back to the hospital."

"Oh please," he replied, "You really think I'm going to suffer a setback if I don't lay around here getting bedsores for two weeks?"

"No," she shook her head, "I'm telling you if I catch you doing anything stupid while you're still recovering, I'm going to beat the hell out of you and put you back in the hospital."

Hannibal took a minute to respond, and when he did, he said nothing to Jean, only looked over to the pilot and said, "Murdock…"

"Yeah, Colonel?"

He grinned and said humorously, "I love your wife." Then he looked back to Jean and said, "Alright, you win, Chancellor, happy?"

"I haven't been happy since the day I met you," she replied in equal humor.

"Bah," Hannibal waved her off, "Can the condemned man at least smoke in peace?"

"Not in my room," she told him, "When you get your old room back then you can stick a cigar in each ear for all I care."

"This is why so many patients die during post-op care," Hannibal said as he pulled the covers up.

"Shut up, Grandpa," she replied as one by one they left the room to let him rest.

"Well, he's going to be trouble," Face said as they headed downstairs.

"That's a given," Murdock said.

"However, I think we've got bigger problems to worry about," Face said.

"Like the fact that if Decker's looking for you guys he might come here again," Jean said, "And then what are we going to do with Hannibal then?"

"Yeah, something like that," Face replied.

"I wouldn't worry about that," she told him, "If Decker _does_ come here again, he's going to be sorry."

"That's easy to say, Jean," Face said, "But face it, after the first couple times, you're not that scary to look at."

Jean moved to kick him in the seat but just missed him. "I'm not talking about that…Murdock and I've been working on a plan if Decker comes slumming again."

"That's right, listen to this," Murdock wheezed shallowly and then let out a cough that sounded like a lung was wrenched loose in him.

"What is that?" Face asked.

"We got the idea when we had Hannibal in the isolation ward," Jean said, "If Decker comes around here again we'll tell him that we've been quarantined, TB…" she saw Face rolling his eyes but she cut him off before he had a chance to shoot it down, "I've been thinking about this, I got some squibs from the prop department at the studio and when Murdock goes to cough, a little sleight of hand and the squibs pop and it looks like a mosquito losing its lunch all over his palms."

Face looked at her as if she'd lost her mind and he asked her, "_Where_ do you come up with this stuff?"

She shrugged and said, "I work in Hollywood, home of the _weird_, there's nothing out there that they can't come up with."

"Yeah I know," he replied, and then stopped.

"Uh-oh," Murdock smirked, "Faceman's thinking."

"Lord help us all," Jean muttered.

"Oh shut up," Face told her.

"Don't talk to my wife like that," Murdock got in his face.

Jean slapped Murdock in the back of the head and told him, "Leave him alone."

Face acted on instinct and hit her back and told her, "Don't you hit him."

"Oh brother," B.A. groaned as he walked past them, shaking his head the entire time, "Crazy's found a breeding ground in this house."

"That's right, B.A.," Jean called after him, "It's a contagion and now that it's infected all of us, it's going to come for you next!"

Face put his hand on her shoulder to get her attention and he almost got an elbow in the face for it, but he told her, "You shouldn't tell him things like that, it only makes him worse."

"Oh please, what's he going to do to me?" Jean asked and pointed at her eye, "I've got one over his head for the rest of my life, he punched my lights out and knocked me clear into the next week, remember?"

As if any of them could forget that one. The A-Team did not make a habit out of going around hitting women, and especially not B.A., for many reasons but a vital one was he always hit harder than he realized and he knew it. That said, the day that it had happened, they were all amazed that he didn't kill her; though he had managed to knock her silly and it was about half an hour before she remembered where she was. The bruise that followed the blow had covered about half of her face and the truth of the matter was they didn't have any idea when it finally went away because Jean was still covering it with makeup when they left two months ago, not for her own convenience but so that B.A. could finally look at her again without feeling guilty. He'd had a perfect track record of never hitting a woman, for any reason, and even though it was an accident, because he'd been trying to hit Hannibal instead, the day it happened that record was blown to smithereens.

Face walked over to the front window and looked out and noted the lack of any sign of life on the block. No traffic, no people, nobody in or around any of the houses on the other side of the street, this place was practically a ghost town.

"What do you think the odds are Decker _will_ come here?" he asked the others.

"I don't know," Jean said as she reached into her pocket and took out the hand grenade she hadn't had to use at the hospital, "But if he does he's going to get introduced to a little philosophy that it's a _bad_ omen to annoy sick people, could even be fatal."

Face turned around and saw what she was holding and his eyes popped out, "Where'd you get that?"

"Out of the van, the better question is where did _you_ get it?" she asked.

"Trade secret," Murdock answered.

* * *

Hannibal had been asleep when he heard somebody pounding on the door, he turned his head and called, "Come in!"

Jean entered the room and asked him, "Everything alright?"

"It _was_," he answered, "What's up?"

"Just giving you a heads up," she said, "I'm going to see about that audition and I'm going to take Murdock down with me, I think he'll get a kick out of going down to the studio."

"Well," Hannibal said with a chuckle, "I guess he'll do in a pinch if you need a partner for it."

"Anyway," she told him, "These auditions usually run a couple hours because they get about 30 people trying for the same part, so we probably won't be back until tonight, so it'll just be Face and B.A. here for the rest of the day."

"Great, now I just have to figure a way to get _them_ out of the house and then I'm set," Hannibal said with a grin.

Jean went over to the bed and asked him, "You _are_ going to be alright, aren't you, Hannibal?"

"Of course I will," he answered, "I haven't had Lynch and Decker on their toes for the last 10 years just to give them the satisfaction of seeing me croak now."

"Just checking," she said.

Once she was gone from the room, Hannibal waited until he heard the front door close and then he went over to the window and saw them back out of the driveway in Jean's car, before disappearing down the street. He heard somebody coming up the stairs and turned to see Face standing in the doorway and he asked, "Did they already…"

"Yeah," Hannibal answered as he moved away from the window, "So I'm guessing whatever it is you were screaming at her about earlier, will have to wait until tonight."

"I'm convinced, Hannibal," Face told him, "Murdock was never insane, but Jean is."

"Why, what's she done now?" Hannibal asked as he took a concealed cigar out of his pocket and lit it.

"The whole time we were in the hospital she had a grenade in her pocket, did you know that?" Face asked.

"Hmm," Hannibal puffed on his cigar, "Did she elaborate on what it was for?"

"One guess," Face said.

"Decker."

"Yup," Face answered as he went over to the bed and sat on the edge of it, and from there he proceeded to fill Hannibal in on what had happened while they were waiting for him to come out of surgery."

"Taking the operating room hostage at gunpoint, points for creativity," Hannibal lightly remarked, "I'll have to remember that one."

"Hannibal!" Face clearly wasn't taking it as well as the colonel was.

"What is it?"

Face didn't say anything at first, and then he said bluntly, "I think she's nuts, Hannibal."

"I thought we established that when we found out she can see Murdock's dog," he replied.

"No, Hannibal, I think she really could be psycho."

"Ah, well then let me give you some advice, lock the door when you take a shower."

"I'm serious," Face said, "I think one of these times she's going to go off the deep end and really kill somebody."

"She already has, don't you remember?" Hannibal replied.

"Exactly," Face said, "She's proven before that she has the capacity to kill."

"Yes," Hannibal said, not sounding convinced, "And she's proven that she still has the desire to kill on occasions, but you can note that so far she hasn't been successful in carrying them out. In fact you might recall that the last time we were here, she about got herself killed by saving the very man that she previously tried to assassinate, I think that says something."

"Except now she's not planning to shoot Decker," Face reminded him, "Now she's plotting to blow him up."

"Well," Hannibal gave a little smile as he said, "At least she's showing some improvement."

* * *

"So much for that part," Jean said as Murdock drove them back from the studio that afternoon.

"It's just a minor technicality," Murdock told her, "Don't burn your bridges yet."

"Murdock, 50 guys show up in military uniforms because now the word going around is this patient was experimented on in the army, that's not a minor technicality."

"Well I still think you could get it," Murdock said, "You've got something they don't."

"What's that?" she asked.

"You're a woman," he explained, "All those people back there assumed that this role is a man because it sounds the most logical. You're the only one that got the idea that it could be a woman."

"How does that do me any favors?" she asked.

"Well you said this is supposed to be a comedy," he said, "And sure it's funny to watch a man running around grabbing people, but a _woman_ grabbing other women and chasing them all over, nobody's going to expect that, so that's added comic value. It could be that after all the experiments the army performed on her, she thinks she's a man."

"And then it becomes a whole other kind of comedy," Jean said, "But I still need a uniform."

Murdock jerked the wheel all the way to the left and the car did a wide U turn and pulled up to the curb on the other side of the street.

"What is it?" Jean asked.

Murdock pointed and she saw what he was looking at, he had pulled the car up in front of a Hollywood costume shop.

"Let's see if they've got anything you can use," he told her.

Jean shrugged and followed him in. Halloween was coming up soon and the store was crowded with people sorting through everything on the racks. It took them half an hour to find the military variety of costumes, and from there it was a matter of sorting through formal uniforms, combat uniforms, and run-of-the-mill camouflage fatigues. Jean found an olive drab uniform in her size and found a dressing room to try it on, she came out and stood before a full length mirror and Murdock stood beside her, also looking at how it fit. Jean put on the hat that came with the uniform and made a face and told Murdock, "I look like Decker."

"Now there's a nightmarish concept," Murdock agreed.

"Might come in handy though," she said, "I'll get it, but I need something else for the audition, and I've got an idea."

Rifling through the other outfits on the rack she found a green Air Force outfit that was a size too large for her and a pair of boots to go with it. On the way out she explained, "If this guy's been locked away in the booby hatch for testing, then by the time he gets out into civilization again he's probably going to have a hard time finding something that fits him right away."

"That's a good idea," Murdock agreed, "Especially if he's escaped, which it's probably a safe bet he did."

Jean laughed and said, "We ought to see about getting you in as a new writer, you could come up with this stuff better than they could because you've already been in the loony bin."

She turned to look at him and it was obvious from the look on Murdock's face that he liked that idea.

* * *

Hannibal and Face had been passing the time playing poker while they waited for Murdock and Jean to get back, when they heard Jean's car pull up down below, Hannibal called the game short and decided to find out how the audition went. They were both surprised when the pair came up and Jean walked into the room looking like she had just escaped from Saigon.

"What happened to you?" Face asked.

"I'm not sure but I think I got the part," she said as she scratched through her hair. "They said they'd be calling in a few days, which of course could mean anytime between this Friday and Thanksgiving, and that's assuming I even get it."

"Have fun, Murdock?" Face asked.

"Oh yeah, it was great," he said as he sat on the foot of the bed, "But you know it's strange, I tried talking with some of the other people that came to audition and in the middle of the conversation they suddenly turned around and left the studio, I wonder why?"

Face turned to Jean and asked, "He start on about the Golf ball Liberation Front again?"

"No," she shook her head, "Space gerbils."

"Ah."

"Very effective," she noted, "Cut the competition down to about 12 other guys."

"How've you been, Hannibal?" Murdock asked.

"I'm going out of my mind with boredom but I'm alright," he answered.

"Good," Jean replied, "Any trouble while we were gone?"

"Nope," Face answered, "It's been a perfectly boring afternoon, appropriately enough it was nice and _quiet_ while you were gone."

"Yeah well we're back now," Jean told him.

"Unfortunately," he commented.

Through the corner of his eye, Face saw Murdock stuffing something down in his jacket, he turned and caught a glimpse of something red and asked the pilot, "Murdock, what're you doing?"

Hannibal reached out and tugged on the red sparkle fabric that was now sticking out of the bottom of his jacket, "Murdock, what _is_ that?"

Murdock turned and saw that his cover was blown, so he yanked the thing out of his jacket and held it up, showing it was the remains of a red glitter dress.

"What're you doing with that?" Face asked.

"Uh, well…" Murdock tried to figure out how to explain it, "See I figured that the Saint could use a stand-in for her audition, so they could see how it would look with her chasing after women instead of a guy…and…so…"

"You were the woman?" Face asked, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

"A very ugly one at that," Jean noted.

"Well," Murdock grumbled, "It would've looked better if I could've gotten a different dress."

Face turned around and clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Hannibal took the tattered dress and saw that it was a sleeveless gown with a short, tight fitted skirt, or rather it was before it was torn to shreds. "Yeah I can see how that wouldn't have been one of your finer appearances," he said, maintaining a straight face.

"As it turns out, from the bottom half he looked alright in it," Jean said, "It was only when it got up here," she grabbed him by his upper arm, "That it started to be a problem. But he did his part well and I think we got the point across."

"Yeah," Murdock replied as he went back over to the bed, "If you want a mentally unbalanced sex fiend, she's your man for the job."

Face knew there was a joke in there, but he slowly turned his head and looked at Hannibal and said, "I'm not even going to bother with that one."

* * *

It was after midnight, Face had crept out of his room and down the stairs with a Beretta in his hand, quietly slipping down the steps, holding his breath the entire way down. His bare feet made a slight sound as they touched down on the linoleum tile on the front hall floor; he pressed himself against the wall and listened. All was quiet for the moment. He inched over to the front door and pulled the curtain back slightly to look out into the night. Everything was dark except for a part of the street illuminated by the corner street lamp. All the houses were dark, and he couldn't see anybody out there, everything looked status quo from here.

Then he heard it, a floorboard creaking from somewhere towards the back of the house. Holding his breath again, Face tiptoed across the floor through the dining room and into the kitchen, and he was suddenly blinded by a light that came on. Opening his eyes immediately he was able to see amidst a bunch of green and purples spots, Jean and Murdock standing in the middle of the kitchen, also with guns drawn and aimed at him.

Face rubbed his eyes and once the spots started to pass he told them, "I thought somebody had broken in."

"Face," Jean said as she pocketed her gun, "Do you really think if Decker came here he's be tiptoeing through the tulips or do you think he'd blow down the door?"

"Well," he pointed to her gun, "What about you?"

"_I_ live here," she told him, "That entitles me to also consider the possibility of common burglars."

Face was able to see clearer now, and he saw that Jean still had on the Air Force outfit she'd worn to the audition that day, and he asked her, "_What_ are you doing in that?"

"Giving it authenticity," she answered, "If I _do_ make the cut, I want to be able to present the illusion that this thing's actually been worn."

A thought occurred to Face and he asked them, "What're _you _doing up?"

"Same as you," Murdock said, "Making sure nobody sneaks up on us in the night."

"So…" Face looked up at the ceiling, then back at them and asked, "Realistically, how long do you think we can keep Hannibal in recovery before he tries to bounce back?"

"Idealistically it would be good if we could keep him off the front line until another mission comes up, however long that is," Jean said, "But I think we're going to have to settle for another week before he declares himself well enough to do what the hell ever he wants. We're just going to have to try it for as long as we can."

"And of course," Murdock added, "If the Colonel wants to argue the point, he can discuss it with B.A., that ought to settle the matter _really_ quick."

* * *

Jean was up before five o' clock. She let Murdock sleep and she went to the window and watched the outside start to lighten up. The sun wouldn't be up for a while but in the meantime she was able to make out the street and the houses and the yard, and saw how normal everything looked. They'd all had the same thought, until Hannibal was at the top of his game again they didn't believe in taking any chances where Decker was concerned. She wouldn't talk to the others about it but if he _did_ come to her house again, it would be the last thing he ever did.

She left the bedroom and went down the hall to the storage room, the only room on the second floor with an outside stairway leading down to the ground. It was already warm and the day was just going to get hotter, still it felt nicer outside than in the house right now. She started to unbutton her jacket when she heard a car coming down the road and she turned her attention to the street out front.

The noise of the engine was low, indicating that it was still several blocks away and not traveling particularly fast; but there weren't any other noises this early in the morning and so the sound not only carried a long way, but also seemed to echo. Jean was partially hidden behind the large trunk of a tree so she wouldn't have been easy to spot from the street, and she watched as the car came into view, and she felt her heart climb into her throat, it was a brown sedan with lights on top and the words MILITARY POLICE up by the windshield. She was stunned to see it pass without any indication that the occupants of the car were looking at or for anything here. The lights weren't flashing on the top and it continued down the street at the residential speed limit. Sure it could have been a coincidence, but there was something about it that didn't sit right with Jean. She decided to follow the car and see where it went, and see if she could find out who was in it. After all, if it was Decker, he already knew her and there wasn't much he could do with her, especially since she lived on this block. And if it wasn't Decker, then they wouldn't know her, and she could just say she was passing by on her way to work.

Jean kept her car three blocks behind the sedan and followed it through a more active part of the city where there were about 20 other cars at any one time alongside and in between the two of them. After following the sedan for a couple of miles, Jean turned off on a side road where she'd still be able to keep an eye on the other car, but without its occupants noticing her, at least she hoped they didn't. She was able to glance over to the other road and saw the sedan start to speed up after a few blocks, she turned to get back on the road with it but hit the brakes when she saw another vehicle coming right at her. The Firebird slammed to a halt and Jean was knocked forward and hit her head against the steering wheel, and pulled it up in time to see three large army trucks barreling down the road. There had to be a connection, but Jean didn't know what it was, though she was determined to find out. She got onto the main road and followed a distance behind the trucks through twists and turns and up hills and down crooked paths and into a place that looked completely out of civilization, and when she saw the brake lights on the back of the trucks, she parked her car behind a row of trees and made the rest of her journey on foot.

She looked down to make sure she didn't snap any twigs or step on anything else to draw attention to her presence, but she also kept her eyes on the area ahead of her to make sure nobody saw she was coming. Up ahead the three trucks had parked alongside each other and beyond that Jean was able to make out a house that looked like a cross between a shack and a cabin, it didn't look like anybody had been living out there but there seemed to be a hell of a lot of company at it now. She saw men getting out of the trucks and going around to the backs, but before she could see what was in them, she felt a pair of hands on her neck and she was jerked around and saw a man in uniform staring down at her as he squeezed the life out of her.

* * *

"It doesn't make sense that she would take off without telling anybody," Murdock told Face as they zoomed along in his 'Vette, heading down to the studio because it was the first place they could think to look for Jean.

They'd gotten up before seven and after everybody got around they realized that Jean wasn't anywhere in the house. They checked the yard and also the whole block since they knew they didn't have to worry about anybody reporting them for trespassing. After that they noticed that her car was gone and tried to figure out where she might go without leaving word to anybody. The only idea any of them could come up with was that she might've had an early audition, and Face and Murdock decided to take the corvette down and check, Hannibal and B.A. would stay at the house and keep an eye on things incase she came back, and then get word to them on the radio in the car.

"Really, Murdock, you think this is the _weirdest_ thing she's done yet?" Face asked in disbelief.

"Well anyway, it's not like her," he said.

Face was about to reply with a question of how Murdock could know that when he hadn't seen her for two months when he saw a pair of red and blue lights spinning and heading their way. "Uh-oh, looks like Decker again, hold on."

He swerved the 'Vette all the way around and doubled back the way they'd come. Murdock chanced to glance back at the car following them and immediately regretting looking back when somebody in the other car started shooting at them.

"Why does this always happen when we take _my_ car?" Face asked as he swerved again to get them out of the immediate line of fire.

Murdock pulled a gun out of his jacket and returned a few shots, but noted, "Can't make out who's driving but it don't look like Decker."

"Oh great, they're multiplying," Face groaned as he stepped on the accelerator to get them out of there.

Murdock managed to hit the windshield and the army sedan swerved to the side and hit a fire hydrant and came to an immediate and unexpected stop. Murdock howled with laughter as they got away and he turned back around in his seat. Face turned off onto a side road and they continued down that way to stay out of sight.

"Recognize anybody we know?" he asked Murdock.

The pilot shook his head and said, "I doubt they'll be stopping by the house."

"All the same," Face told him, "It wouldn't hurt to get on the radio to Hannibal and B.A. and let them know what's going on."

"Yeah," Murdock grabbed the radio but dropped it when he spotted something ahead, "Face, look at that!"

He looked, and saw one very familiar blue car parked up ahead.

"That's Jean's car, she's around here somewhere," Murdock said.

"Go figure," Face replied as he pulled up beside the Firebird and parked it, "You think she also ran into the joy boys back there?"

"I hope not," Murdock said as they went over to Jean's car and inspected it for bullet holes or blood stains in the upholstery, they came up empty.

"Well she's got to be around here somewhere," Face said, "Let's take a look around."

"Well, she isn't back there the way we came," Murdock noted, "So she must've gone on ahead."

"Brilliant deduction, Murdock," Face told him as they started forward.

Murdock looked down at the ground and pointed out, "Somebody's been here, look at the footprints."

"They look like army boots," Face realized.

"No," Murdock shook his head, "Air Force regulation boots, or rather a cheap facsimile thereof, preferably from a Hollywood costume shop."

"Eh?" Face turned to him.

"Jean must've worn her new outfit when she left the house," Murdock said, "And look up there…_somebody_ has to have been through here, look at all the tire tracks."

Face followed the trail of the marks in the dirt and he looked up ahead and saw a rundown looking cabin up ahead.

"Think anybody's home?" Face asked.

Murdock pulled the gun out of his pocket and said, "One way to find out."

Face nodded hesitantly and pulled his gun out too. "Let's go."

They made their way up to the cabin and were almost to the front door when they heard gunshots and they dropped down. Somebody had opened fire from a window towards the back of the cabin, they stayed close to the ground and returned fire. The fact that there wasn't a heavy barrage of enemy fire told them that there was most likely only one person inside, and not heavily armed. Murdock ran on ahead and kicked in the door, screaming warnings to drop everything and for whoever was in the cabin to come out with their hands up; Face brought up the rear and looked in every direction, but they didn't see anybody. Keeping their guards up, they searched every room and didn't find a trace of anybody.

"Either we're both losing our minds or the invisible man's got an army now," Face muttered to himself as he kicked the refrigerator in the kitchen.

From another room he heard Murdock yelling for him and he ran in to see what was the matter, he froze in the doorway when he saw Jean. She lay on the bed unresponsive, her clothes were torn, blood streaked over one of her eyes, and her wrists were tied with rope, each separately and then together, and the rope was tied around a chain that was suspended from a bolt in the ceiling. Murdock lowered his gun but didn't drop it, and he ran over to the bed and felt Jean's neck for a pulse. Finding one he let out one sigh of relief but he still couldn't find any coherent words for her current situation. He grabbed the ropes that bound her wrists and looked at how elaborately they had been tied up and looked back down at her and talked to her, trying to get a response out of her.

Face stepped into the room, trying to find out how he could help. The air in the room was smothering to him, the windows were all shut and the cabin was hot as hell, especially in this room it seemed. Jean's skin was caked in perspiration and she looked like she'd been left lying there for quite some time. Finally she opened her eyes and looked up at the two men and tried to pull herself up, managing only to get her head a couple inches off the bed. She swallowed a lump in her throat, and when she spoke it was obvious that her tongue was thick and dry, not having had anything to drink for several hours. She licked her split lips and said, "Don't tell Hannibal…he doesn't need to know." And then her eyes rolled back, her head fell back and she was unconscious again.

"Jean! Jean!" Murdock's hands reached into the remains of her shirt and felt her heart to make sure it was still beating, and he about collapsed when he could feel it was.

Face took a knife out of his pocket and started cutting at the ropes holding her wrists up and repeated, "Don't tell Hannibal? Don't tell Hannibal _what_?"


	8. Chapter 8

Jean fell against the bed as the ropes were cut and the springs in the mattress all sounded off to having her full weight against them. She opened her eyes again and tried to talk, the first coherent word they were able to get out of her was 'water'. Face doubled back to the kitchen and filled a glass up and returned to the bedroom; Jean was working on getting the feeling back into her hands but she grabbed the glass and drained it in two seconds.

"Are you alright?" Murdock asked her as he placed a hand on her cheek, noting that she looked about ready to pass out again and wanting to make sure she knew they were there and that she wasn't alone.

Jean tiredly nodded her head as she reached up with one hand and grabbed the two parts of her shirt that had been ripped open and bunched them together in her hand to keep it closed. "Uh-huh."

"What happened?" Face asked.

Jean couldn't get her mouth open the first couple of times she tried to speak but on the third try she was able to get out clear enough for them to hear, "Army."

"Who, Decker?" Murdock asked.

Jean shook her head, "Not Decker."

"Who then?" Face asked.

She shook her head again and said, "Don't know…doesn't matter."

"Come on, Murdock, let's get her out of here," Face suggested.

"Right!" Murdock jumped up as the thought just occurred to him.

He grabbed Jean's arm and slung it over his shoulders for support, but flinched when he felt her wrist rub against his neck. He started to apologize, then realized that something was amiss, there weren't any rope burns on her hands, and he rolled the cuff of her sleeve up and saw there weren't any on her wrist either. Instead he saw a metal band on her wrist where the ropes had been tied over. He realized there would be time to ask about that later and right now he just focused on getting his wife the hell out of this place, right now he didn't even care who or what was going on out here, they would deal with that later.

Face was just as anxious to get them out of there but he had the foresight to hope they didn't run into anymore enemy fire on the way out. He had been tempted to ask Jean who had been shooting at them in the first place but realized the futility of that idea since she wouldn't know either most likely. Jean had one arm over Murdock's back and her other hand held her shirt closed, so Face just lightly grabbed her other arm, more to just keep her evenly balanced than to actually keep a hold of her as they headed for the door.

"You take her car back, I'll follow in the 'Vette," he told Murdock.

Murdock nodded and walked Jean over to where she'd hidden her car. He talked to her as he got her in on her side, not so much anything coherent as just trying to keep her going, to get any kind of response out of her.

"Just hang on, hon," he told her as he closed the door on her side and stepped over it and made his way over to the driver's seat, "We'll get you back home and you're gonna be alright, alright?"

She was slow to respond and Murdock took that as a sign, not so much that she was going into shock, but she was suffering a delayed reaction and when it fully hit her what had happened, whatever it was, she was going to go through the roof, and he just hoped they got her back to the house before that happened.

* * *

"After 9 o' clock," Hannibal said as he glanced at his watch, "I wonder what the holdup is."

"Knowing that crazy fool, could be anything," B.A. said.

"What about his wife?" Hannibal asked.

"She married to him, she got to be as crazy as Murdock is by now," B.A. told him.

"Hmm, good point," Hannibal said as he puffed on his cigar.

B.A. grunted and shook his head, "I feel sorry for Faceman, stuck with those two crazy people, they taking him along for the ride until he's just as bad as both of them."

Hannibal shrugged coyly and said, "I could think of worse things to be."

"I can't," B.A. told him, "You know that fool Murdock keeps trying to make me as crazy as he is just so he'll have some company."

Hannibal chuckled and said, "He's been trying for 10 years, B.A., hasn't worked yet, has it?"

"Not _yet_," B.A. answered, "But the fool keeps trying."

They heard a car pull up outside and Hannibal went to the window, "Ah ha, here they come now." He saw Face's corvette was right behind the Firebird and parked beside it in the driveway. But Hannibal watched from the window and was surprised when he saw they weren't heading for the door, either at the front or the back.

"What is it, Hannibal?" B.A. asked.

"They're heading upstairs and they're not bothering to come in here first," Hannibal said, "Come on, let's see what it is."

They went to the hall and ran up the stairs to beat the others to the entrance in the storage room; Hannibal got there first and was waiting at the window for the other three to come up, and he called down to them, "What's going on?"

That took them by surprise and Face and Murdock looked up, but Jean kept her head low and one hand clutched to her chest.

"Colonel!" Murdock exclaimed in shock, not knowing what more to say.

"What's the matter?" Hannibal called down to them.

Jean looked up and Hannibal saw what the matter was. He saw the blood on Jean's face and he saw that both her jacket and her shirt had practically been ripped off of her, the pants to her uniform had also been torn up, only the boots remained in tact. Now she _really_ looked the part of a psychotic guinea pig escapee from the army.

Hannibal felt the blood drain out of his face as he asked, "What happened?"

* * *

What happened? What happened. That was the million dollar question and unfortunately for everybody involved, Jean would not answer. Once they got in the room, Jean kept her head low and her gaze to the floor as she walked past Hannibal without a single word. She'd managed to get past all four of them before making a beeline into the bathroom where she locked herself in after tossing her clothes out into the hall. Hannibal pressed Murdock and Face for answers but they came up just as short on them as he was. They were able to tell him about the cabin and the firefight with whoever had been inside but managed to do a disappearing trick before they got in, and about finding Jean, and that was all the further they could explain anything.

Hannibal tried to process the information they gave him, which wasn't much to go on but it was all they had at the moment. And he remembered the way Jean wouldn't look at him, looking, he thought, like a beaten dog. No, it was worse than that, she looked like a woman from a third world country who had brought shame to the whole family, but why? That was the part he couldn't figure out, and it was driving him crazy. He saw the pile of laundry outside the bathroom door and picked the clothes up.

"Is this what she was wearing when you found her?"

"Yeah," Murdock answered, "That's her new uniform."

"Not anymore," Hannibal pointed out as he pulled on the material to see how torn up it was. He pulled on the two ends of the jacket as if it was an accordion. Murdock couldn't help joking, "I don't think you're going to be able to get any music out of it, Colonel."

"No, but maybe some answers as to what happened back there," Hannibal replied, "Murdock, when Jean comes out of there, you're the most likely person she'll talk to, see if you _can_ get her to talk…in the meantime…I need to think." He took the clothes with him and headed downstairs.

"What do you think that's about?" Face asked.

"I don't know," B.A. said, "But I think the fool's craziness is starting to rub off on Hannibal."

"B.A.," Face pointed the direction Hannibal had gone, "Why don't you see what he's up to?"

"Might as well," he replied, "Don't think I wanna stick around for the fireworks up here."

"Thanks a lot!" Face sarcastically bellowed down after the man.

"Face, you might as well go with them," Murdock told him, "If she _is_ going to tell us anything, she'll tell me first."

"More of that marital privilege I'm always hearing so much about, eh?" Face asked, "Alright, good luck. I have a feeling you're going to need it."

* * *

Face was starting to think B.A. might be right about Hannibal losing his mind. He found the colonel at the dining room table with Jean's Air Force uniform laid out before him, he had the jacket in his hands and was sniffing the material.

"What're you doing, Hannibal?" he asked.

"Just checking," he answered.

"For what?" Face asked.

"For what?" Hannibal repeated, "Anything, anything that might explain what the hell has been going on. Now I don't know what happened, or what was planned to happen, but so far I'm not coming up with any odors similar to gasoline or oil or kerosene or turpentine, or anything else that might be used to set her on fire, so that's one advantage. Also I noticed there aren't any bloodstains on the clothes, so clearly Jean wasn't roughed up _too_ badly."

"For once," Face noted as he sat down at the table.

"You said that her wrists were tied up and suspended above her head," Hannibal said, "I'll admit I didn't get a very good look at her but I didn't see any rope burns on her hands or her arms, did you?"

"I didn't really notice," Face confessed, "But I don't think so."

Hannibal was scratching his head on that one. "Then she couldn't have been there for too long."

"She had to be, Hannibal," Face said, "If I had to guess I'd say she'd been there two hours at least before we found her."

"Then something's not making sense," he replied.

"Something?" B.A. snorted, "Try everything, man."

"Was there anything on her wrists under the ropes?" Hannibal asked, "Something that would block the indentions?"

"I don't think so," Face said, "No wait, I remember, the cuffs on her jacket…the ropes were tied _over_ them."

Hannibal grunted and turned his nose up and commented, "Amateur…any torturer worth his weight in sadism knows you never leave anything to soften the blow, or to lessen the burn. Anybody who _knew_ what he was doing would've wrapped the rope directly around her wrists until they were bleeding from the fibers cutting into her skin."

"You learn that in the army?" Face asked cynically.

"No actually, when I was a kid and tried to reenact the westerns I saw every Saturday," he answered.

"Hannibal," Face said, trying to sound nonchalant, "Remind me never to go camping with you. I don't want to know what you learned back when you were an Eagle Scout."

Hannibal let out a slight chuckle but returned his attention to the uniform Jean had worn in. He knew that there was something about it that he should've noticed, something was wrong here and it was looking at him right in the face, but he couldn't put his finger on what was the matter with it, and he was determined to go over every inch of it until he did.

* * *

After Face had gone downstairs, Murdock had stayed by the bathroom door so he could hear if anything seemed to be wrong. He had to give Jean credit, when she wanted to be alone, she could be as quiet as a corpse; he'd heard the shower running but that was the only thing he'd heard. He pressed his ear against the door, trying to hear any little sound from the next room, but there was nothing. He tapped his fingernail against the door and quietly called in, "Saint, you alright?" There wasn't any answer and he raised his voice a bit and said, "I know you're in there, I can hear you breathing." Of course he _knew_ she was in there, there wasn't any place for her to go, there wasn't any window in the bathroom.

He heard the knob turn and he stepped away from the door so it didn't open on him, Jean stepped out wrapped in a towel that practically swallowed her whole. She looked up at Murdock, but he noted, only slightly.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

"Yeah, sure," she answered, not sounding convincing, "Just fine…"

"What happened back there?" he asked.

"I'll explain," she shook her head, "But I was sure as hell hoping that Hannibal didn't have to find out about this."

"Why?" Murdock asked.

"He didn't need this," she said, "Why is it _every_ time you guys come around, something like this has to happen? Something always happens, you guys _always_ have to get involved with my problem."

"Well let me ask you a question," he said to her, "Does stuff like this happen when we're _not_ here?"

Jean looked at him as if she hadn't thought of that, and she answered, "Not usually."

"Maybe there's a connection," Murdock told her.

"Yeah, maybe," she didn't sound like she believed it though, "Look, why don't you go on downstairs and find the others…and I'll be there in a minute and I'll tell everybody at the same time what happened?"

Murdock reached over and supportively placed his hand on her back and he asked her, "Are you sure you're alright, Saint?"

"As I explained the last time you guys found me," she told him, "I'm more embarrassed than anything."

With that, she broke away from him and went to their room and shut the door on him. He wondered what she meant by that but he decided to join the others and await her explanation. He had a bad feeling about this whole thing and he got an idea that it was only going to get worse.

* * *

Hannibal could've kicked himself that the answer he was looking for didn't dawn on him sooner. It hit him when he was jerking on the material to Jean's jacket for about the hundredth time. "I've got it!"

"Got what?" the others asked as Murdock joined them in the dining room.

"I _knew_ that there was something wrong with this," Hannibal said as he stood up, "Face, come over here and look at this."

All of them hovered around the dining room table as Hannibal pulled on the fabric to the jacket again.

"What is it, Hannibal?" Face asked.

"Look at this," Hannibal showed how the buttons had been torn from the jacket and it was completely ripped alongside where the buttons were, "Whoever attacked Jean grabbed her jacket like this, and ripped it apart, ripped the buttons clean off…all but the bottom one."

"Yeah, and?" he asked.

Hannibal put the jacket down and picked up the white shirt Jean had worn with it. It too had been torn right down the middle. He pulled on its fabric likewise and explained, "This is heavier than those shirts she usually wears, so it would take a little more muscle to just rip this open."

"I'm following you so far but I'm not getting it," Face told him.

Hannibal picked the jacket back up and held it alongside the shirt, "Look at this, Face, on the jacket, the material starts to fray and fringe where it was ripped, see that? But on the shirt, there aren't any frays in the material."

"It wasn't torn," Murdock realized, "It was cut open."

"Precisely," Hannibal said, "The material would remain well intact after being cut, usually until it was run through the washer and then it starts to fall apart, but ripped fabric frays from the start, that's the difference."

"Okay," it was still clear as mud to Face, "So the guy rips her jacket and cuts her shirt, I think I'm missing something here."

"The shirt would be easier to rip than the jacket would," Hannibal told him, "But the guy didn't do that, why?" While Face was contemplating that, Hannibal put them down and picked up the pants she'd worn, showing that they had been torn at the seams going all the way up to the knees. "See how neatly the material holds together?"

"They were cut open too," Murdock realized.

"That's right," Hannibal grabbed the material of one leg and ripped it the rest of the way up to the thigh and said, "That's how you can tell, see all the loose threads already hanging out of it? Now…if it were just one leg, I'd say that maybe whoever it was had been planning to try a little electrocution."

Murdock considered what the colonel meant and he said, "Not like electro-shock therapy in the hospital, like when they strap you into the electric chair and fry you, they shave your head and your leg and place an electrode on each end."

"Something like that," Hannibal said, "But why cut open the other leg then?"

"Oh it's very easy to explain it all, Hannibal," Jean said as she entered the room, dressed in a sleeveless shirt and a pair of jean shorts. When all eyes were on her, she held her head up high and tilted it back so they could see her neck in full details, and see the handprint bruises that had wrapped around the flesh and re-colored it.

"Oh my God," Hannibal said as he went over to her to see how bad it was. However, when he was able to get a better look at the bruises, he realized something didn't look right.

Jean caught on to what he was thinking and she nodded and said, "Something's wrong with it, alright, but it's not what you're thinking."

Hannibal placed his hands on her neck and saw that his hands were bigger than the prints; the others tried as well, both Face and Murdock's hands were too big, and B.A.'s hands were twice the size of the bruises. Hannibal was starting to figure out what it meant and he shook his head in disbelief, "Now wait a minute, you don't mean to tell me that…"

Jean nodded, "That's right, Hannibal."

Hannibal felt his eyes bug out as he asked, "A _woman_ did that to you?"

"Well," Jean said, "She definitely had her share of the fun at my expense."

This came as a shock to all of them, but Face especially felt like he'd just fallen through the looking glass, slipped right past the hands of the Twilight Zone and had made a crash landing on another planet entirely. "Say _what_?"

"I went to that place," Jean explained, "Because I saw one of the MP cars heading past here, I followed it and on the way three army trucks came onto the road and followed the car."

"What were they carrying?" Hannibal asked.

"I don't know," she said, "They had those canvas backs and I was watching for them to open them up and _that's_ when they caught me."

"Who?"

"I don't know," Jean said, "But if I had to guess, I'd say that Decker's gone and found himself a girlfriend."

"What!?" Face asked.

"Are you serious?" Hannibal asked her.

"Hannibal, I only know what I saw and what I saw was a woman wearing a Colonel's uniform like Decker wears…she personally requested to take over when they were interrogating me."

"That explains it then," Hannibal realized.

Jean nodded, "They had a bunch of gorillas there…gorillas, guerillas, it's all the same with these dopes, I don't know what they were all there for, but one of them caught me and he was the one that ripped my jacket apart _after_ I was tied up, that's when the broad took over."

"Who tied you up?" Hannibal asked.

"She did."

"Alright, why don't you have any rope burns on your hands or your wrists?" Hannibal asked.

Jean explained, "When I work in films, during fight scenes and stuff like that, lately I've taken to wearing these cheap metal bands under the cuffs. It's not much protection but it _does_ block some of the damage to my wrists when I'm hitting things and nobody ever notices. I was wearing them under my jacket when I went out today, and she tied the rope _over_ the cuffs."

"Ah, then I was right, it is an amateur."

"Of course she's an amateur, if she had any real military training in her, she would've killed me when she had the chance," Jean said, "I know I would've if it was me."

Face shrugged and asked, "Then what the hell is going on?"

"I don't know," Jean told him, "All I know is what I saw."

"Right, but what happened?" Hannibal asked.

"Well, she said that she'd take over, and she grabbed a pair of scissors and used them to cut my shirt apart and cut open the seams on the pants I was wearing…I don't know _why_, I guess it's some new scare tactic they're using to coerce confessions out of prisoners or something…anyway I got the feeling that she was aiming to start cutting deeper if I didn't tell them what they wanted to hear, which was why was I there and what I knew, and all that usual stuff."

"What did you tell them?"

"Nothing," Jean said, "I'm _not_ an amateur at this stuff, I know to keep my mouth shut, no matter what happens."

"And what did?" Hannibal asked.

"Nothing," she repeated, "That dame probably would've gotten a _lot_ further, but one of the gorillas came in and said they had to clear out, because they were already falling behind schedule. I guess that was an hour before Face and Murdock came in and found me."

"But then who was shooting at us?" Face asked.

Jean shrugged and said, "Sorry, wish I could tell you."

"There's one thing that hasn't been cleared up," Murdock said to her, "When did she try to strangle you?"

"Oh that!" she suddenly remembered, "Well, when she found out they had to leave, she said something about making it short and sweet and she throttled me, I don't know if she thought I _was_ dead or not, but she left right after, they _all_ did."

"Would you know any of them if you saw them again?" Hannibal asked.

"I'd know that woman anywhere, that's for sure," Jean answered, "And I'll tell you something else, Hannibal, if you don't have it in you to knock her cold, then _I will_."

Face was the first to respond. It was obvious from the look on his face that he was still trying to grasp this information, and he said, "I'm still having a hard time believing this…"

"So noted," Jean replied, "But so what? I know that you guys have a problem with the idea of going around beating up on women like you do on men because you think that for whatever reason, that women are gentler, weaker creatures to be handled with kid gloves. Anytime there's a woman involved with some hood you think she's always just a pawn, that she was lured in or strong armed in, but the truth of the matter is some women are just evil, just like men, and some of them even worse, and they're every bit as bloodthirsty, believe me, I know."

Face cleared his throat and said, "You'll excuse me, Jean, but there doesn't seem to be a lot of evidence to support that idea."

"Isn't there?" she returned, a little Cheshire cat showing through in her now as she replied, "Face, it is a known fact that women have fought in every army ever since the beginning of time. It's only been in the last century when complete physicals became necessary for enlisting that it became an impossibility for them to do so. They disguised themselves as men and fought alongside them, some of them went to prison and were sentenced to death as men for crimes nobody would ever think a woman capable of committing, nobody found out. The fact that nobody ever questioned their ability to fight or kill just as the male soldiers who fought alongside them did, ought to tell you something."

"She has a point," Hannibal said to Face.

"I suppose so," Face reluctantly agreed, "It's just that when I was growing up…"

"When you were growing up, the world was still flat," Jean told him, "I think it's safe to say that the whole world has changed since you were growing up."

"Another point," Murdock murmured to Face.

"As I said," Jean told them, "If we find this woman and you _don't_ have it in you to beat the hell out of her like she deserves, then I will, I'm not overly familiar with knocking the stuffing out of my own kind but I'm not against it either."

Hannibal decided it would be best to keep his answer to that in reserve for now. Right now there were other matters to deal with and he asked Jean, "Do you remember the way you went that you found that cabin?"

"Yeah, sure," she said, "They swept the place before they left though, you won't find anything out there."

"Maybe not," Hannibal told her, "But there's no harm in looking…who knows? Maybe one of the house apes wasn't as careful in picking up after himself as the rest."

Jean nodded, "We'll go, but I'm telling you, Hannibal, it's a waste of time."

"Hannibal, do you really think that Decker could be involved in this?" Face asked.

"Well…anything _is_ possible, however…it sounds like whoever they were might be involved in some illegal activities, or at the very least, immoral even by the military's standards…in which case I _can't_ see Decker being involved, though he _might_ find it very interesting if somebody were to fill him in on the details once we get them ourselves."

"Well what about the woman?" Face asked, "What do you think about that?"

"Jean could tell us better because she was there…" Hannibal turned to Jean and asked, "What do you say, kid?"

Jean shook her head, "She could be a squeeze for old Roddy, but I'd say it's a safe bet that she never even attended basic training, let alone finished. I think she's a little egomaniac just like a lot of men and she likes the idea of playing the big tough soldier. She seems to get a real kick out of torturing people."

"Definitely _not_ Decker's style," Hannibal said, "He likes to just go in straight for the kill."

"Probably so," Jean replied, "But I've got to tell you, Hannibal, I've known a lot of nuts in my life, and this woman's a piece of work all her own…if we _do_ see her again, I'm going to enjoy tearing her apart."

* * *

"I think she was right, Hannibal," B.A. said after they'd spent an hour searching every room of the cabin, and still hadn't found anything to prove it was currently being used by anybody, "We been over this place twice now, ain't nothing here that's gonna tell anything about the fools that was here."

"Well, obviously nobody's living here long term," Hannibal concurred, "But it's got running water and working lights, so that means somebody's staying here, also means somebody has their name on this place so they can pay the bills to keep the utilities running." He turned to the next room and called in, "Face!"

"Yeah I know," Face replied as he entered the room, "I'll find out who's paying to keep this place up and running and we'll go from there. Jean said that the car was Military Police, but the trucks were regular army, so whatever we find we'll run the names against anybody who is currently serving in the army and see if anything matches."

Hannibal saw Murdock poking his head in and asked the captain, "Where's Jean?"

Murdock pointed to the window, "Outside…said that she needed to get some air."

"She alright?" Hannibal asked.

"Uh…" Murdock gave up trying to answer and asked in return, "How do you know, Colonel? I mean I thought she was alright on the trip out here, but now…"

"She say anything?"

Murdock shook his head, "She's hardly said anything since we got out here."

Hannibal considered what this meant, and he said to them, matter-of-factly, "Something more happened out here than she's telling us."

"It doesn't make sense though," Murdock said, "No matter what's happened to her, she always tells us everything."

Hannibal gave a combination nod and shrug and replied, "Then we know it was something _really_ bad."

Murdock's head drooped like a sad puppy and he walked out of the room without another word. Face went after him and asked, "You alright, Murdock?"

"Nah, Face, I'm torn," he answered as he picked his head up to look at his best friend, "On one hand, I want to find the person responsible for this and I want to reach down their throat, rip their heart out and hand it to them with it still beating…but on the other hand, I keep thinking about what Jean said, and what you said…" he shook his head and said, "We just _weren't_ raised to believe women could be as capable of evil as men are, that they could commit the same atrocious acts. Jean's right, it's not right to assume that, but nevertheless that's how the men of our generation were raised, and it's hard to break away from that mindset."

"And we also weren't raised to hit women,_ even_ if they deserved it," Face recalled that lesson that he'd been reminded of _many_ times as a kid.

"And if anyone _does_ deserve it," Murdock nodded, "It's the woman who's responsible for this mess. But again, I'm torn, say we find her, do _I_ bash her head through the wall like I would any man in the same position, or do I let Jean have that honor since she's the victim and it would make the fight fairer?"

"Why don't you ask Jean what she thinks?" Face asked.

Murdock shook his head, "Wouldn't do any good, Faceman, she's not talking to me right now, and I feel bad because I want to help her but I can't help if I don't know how to help her, and I can't find out how I can help her if she won't talk to me. You see what my problem is?"

"Yeah, and it's dizzying," Face told him.

"Face, I just don't know what I'm going to do," Murdock confessed to him, "I just can't figure out what else _could've_ happened that she wouldn't tell us about."

"And then the next question," Face added, "Is it something the woman did, or something one of the men did?"

"I'll kill them all and sort it out later," Murdock decided.

An idea occurred to Face and he suggested to Murdock, "Maybe we'd get some more answers if we took her to a doctor."

Murdock shook his head, "Naw, Facey, I'm with Hannibal, I don't think they hurt her that badly."

"No, I mean maybe a psychiatric doctor…maybe if we took her to see Dr. Richter at the V.A. that he could get her to tell what…" Face stopped when he saw Murdock shaking his head again.

"Wouldn't do any good, Face," Murdock said, "If she ain't gonna tell _us_ what happened, then she won't tell Dr. Richter what happened and it wouldn't matter anyway because I've sat through Dr. Richter's sessions and lectures for 10 years, I know everything he could possibly say to her, we could cut out the middle man and I could ask her myself, but she won't talk to us about it."

Face hated to admit it, but he was out of ideas. He clapped his hand on Murdock's shoulder supportively and told him, "I guess then we're just going to have to wait until Jean's ready to tell us what all happened here."

"Yeah," Murdock agreed, "I just hope she tells us soon, I think I'd feel better once I knew the whole story…course she's probably thinking just the opposite right now."

They went over to the window and looked out and saw Jean with her back to them, seated on a large tree stump out in the yard, just looking around, not really at anything in particular, Murdock knew. More like she was trying to see past this place, past everything as far as the eye could see, she was looking ahead to when they found the people who had been here and the number one motive for retaliation: revenge.

* * *

All they'd found inside the cabin was proof that somebody had frequented the place recently; there was no buildup of dust, the sheets on the bed looked remotely fresh and there was some food and a few beers in the fridge. Outside they found enough tire tracks in the dirt to lend credit towards Jean's story about the trucks, but once they ran the length back onto the main, paved road, then there was no way to tell which way they had gone or where to. Hannibal was hesitant to admit the trip had been a waste, but they didn't have much of anything to go on, so they piled into the van and headed back to civilization.

In the back of the van, Jean had seated herself next to Murdock, drawn her knees up near her chest and fell asleep with her head leaning against his shoulder. It was obvious from watching the captain that he wasn't comfortable with the close contact but he didn't try to push her away; he knew that right now she needed to have some sense of security, and apparently he was it. He didn't say anything for a while to let her sleep, though on the way back he did finally speak up and say to nobody in particular, "You know, I've been thinking about what she said…"

Hannibal turned around in the front seat and asked, "About what, Murdock?"

"Well I was thinking, Colonel, about when she said that women could be just as evil as men…I mean we never thought about it really, but it makes sense, doesn't it?"

Nobody spoke but he could see that they were all considering the possibility, and he continued, trying to make his point, "In every predatory species of animals, the female is always described as being the more aggressive of the two…alright, so it works that way in the animal kingdom, why not people too? After all, people can be a _very_ predatory bunch of animals, as we well know." He turned to Face and added, "Something else I thought of, you know how in some species the male and female animals look very different from each other? You know, male lions have the big manes, male cardinals are pretty and red while the females are a dull brown…male peacocks have the great big colorful feathers…"

"Okay," Face said, "So what's the point?"

"Well it seems to me that nature has done to the animals the opposite of what society does with people, in society it's the women who spend hours every day trying to look fancy and show off and get all the attention drawn to them, whereas men are usually far less maintenance and don't bother trying to show off. You of course are our exception to that rule." Face rolled his eyes at that comment, but Murdock carried on, "But where animals are concerned, it's the males that always get more attention drawn to them for their beauty, it's like the order of nature is to gaudy up all the males and not so much with the females."

"It's an interesting point, Murdock, but what _is_ the point?" Hannibal asked.

Murdock shrugged and said, "Just seems funny that if mankind is supposed to be so evolved, it seems to be doing a backward roll from the animal kingdom. I mean exactly who _did_ decree that women were delicate little creatures?"

"I think the women themselves did it," Face told him, "Right after they beat the hell out of the men for not agreeing with it."

Murdock shrugged and slipped his arm around Jean and held her while she slept, and he thought back to the differences in the animals and remembered the red and brown cardinals, and it took him back. He remembered shortly after they'd been married and he had just gotten his stuff moved into her room with her, Jean had found a Mother Goose book among his belongings, and he remembered a poem they'd each recited a line of before falling asleep one night. For some reason it was now that he remembered the full rhyme:

'_Twas once upon a time, when Jenny Wren was young,  
So daintily she danced and so prettily she sung,  
Robin Redbreast lost his heart, for he was a gallant bird.  
So he doffed his hat to Jenny Wren, requesting to be heard._

_"Oh, dearest Jenny Wren, if you will but be mine,_  
_You shall feed on cherry pie and drink new currant wine,_  
_I'll dress you like a goldfinch or any peacock gay,_  
_So, dearest Jen, if you'll be mine, let us appoint the day."_

_Jenny blushed behind her fan and thus declared her mind:_  
_"Since, dearest Bob, I love you well, I'll take your offer kind._  
_Cherry pie is very nice and so is currant wine,_  
_But I must wear my plain brown gown and never go too fine."_

Murdock turned and looked at Jean, who was still asleep, and in turn he leaned his head over and pressed it lightly against hers and he closed his eyes as well.

* * *

Hannibal knocked on the door and opened it anyway when he didn't hear anything. Once they had gotten back to Jean's house, Hannibal had declared himself well enough to move back to his regular room, so Jean could return to her own where he felt she could probably get the most rest. They still didn't know the full story of what had happened that day but he did know that Jean had been put through one hell of an ordeal and needed to know that it was over and that she could now rest and recover. It had been decided, though Hannibal wasn't sure by who exactly, that Murdock would stay with Face for the night and Jean would have her room and her bed to herself. Hannibal went in to make sure she was alright before he turned in for the night; Jean had been absent from dinner that night and still had hardly spoken to anyone since they returned.

He saw her laying in bed, the blankets pulled halfway up, and she already changed into her pajamas for the night. It didn't look like she'd been asleep or was anywhere near it yet, though Hannibal thought he could see some improvement from looking at her eyes.

"How're you feeling, kid?" he asked as he stepped lightly into the room.

She smiled at him and said, "I'm fine, Hannibal."

"I take it you're feeling better then?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said sheepishly, "I'm sorry about earlier."

"No problem," he told her as he went over to the bed and stared down at her. He looked at her for a minute before adding, "You do know that the offer's still good, right?"

"What offer?" she asked.

He gave her a little smile and said, "Remember I told you if you ever need help, _any_ kind of help, we can get it for you."

She smiled weakly in return and told him, "I don't need help, I've already got the four of you."

"If we have to, we _can_ expand that department," he said.

"I don't think it'll be necessary," she said, "But I appreciate your concern."

"Alright," Hannibal replied, he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek and gave her hand a slight squeeze and said, "Goodnight, kid."

"Goodnight, Hannibal," she responded.

He closed the door on his way out and headed over to his own room for the night, stopping in at the room next to his first to see how Murdock was holding up.

Murdock and Face were already in bed but they weren't asleep; instead they'd propped the pillows up against the headboard and were watching reruns on TV when Hannibal came in. The first words out of Murdock's mouth were, "How is she?"

"Seems to be doing alright," Hannibal answered, "She's talking again, that's a good start."

"You think she'll be alright, Hannibal?" Murdock asked.

Hannibal said in his Mr. Lee philosophy, "The human spirit can bend and bend and bend like origami, but takes more to break than just being stepped on several times."

"I think that's a yes, Murdock," Face told him.

"I think that whatever happened," Hannibal told them both, "She _will_ tell us in time, it's just a matter now of getting to that point."

"Hope it's a short line between the two points," Murdock commented.

"I know, I do too," Hannibal said as he reached for the light switch, "Goodnight, boys."

"Goodnight, Grandpa," they chorused behind him.

* * *

B.A. wasn't sure what it was that woke him up, but he found himself sitting up in bed only to discover it was still dark. He found the clock on the nightstand and saw that it was 2:30 in the morning. He picked up on a faint sound from one of the next rooms and immediately thought it was somebody breaking in. Then logic set in and he realized more likely than not, Murdock or somebody had come down to get something to eat. All the same, he wasn't going to take a chance. He got out of bed, opened his door and stepped out and looked around in the dark to see where the noise was coming from.

He heard a sound coming from the kitchen, it sounded like somebody trying to open the door. He felt his way along into the kitchen, found the light switch and threw it up, revealing Jean standing at the back door.

B.A. let out a small sigh of relief. "Hey mama," he said, "What you sneaking around your own house for?" She didn't answer him and he knew that wasn't normal by any stretch of the imagination. He watched at the way Jean was feeling her hands over the door, trying to find the knob and the lock. B.A. put his hand on her shoulder and forced her to turn around and he saw her eyes weren't even open.

"Oh great," he grumbled to himself, "A sleepwalker, that's all we need." He grabbed Jean's hand and walked her out of the kitchen with him and said, "Come on, mama, let's get you back in bed."

Jean followed after him at first but then she tried to get away from him and over to the back door again. B.A. snagged her back again, and realized Jean was going to be more trouble than he thought. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kept a tight grip on her so she couldn't get away from him; this was especially so since when he grabbed her, he lifted her up so that her feet hung three inches off the ground. With her in tow, B.A. walked over to the foot of the stairs, and called up, though not loud enough to wake up the whole house, "Murdock!"

There was a slight pause before he heard the pilot call down the stairs, "Huh?"

"Hey Murdock, you got your pants on?"

"Yeah."

"Well come on down here, I need your help, man," B.A. told him.

Jean was squirming in his grasp and he never loosened his hold on her but he noticed that since she wasn't touching the floor, her feet and legs were swinging back and forth like a clock pendulum, and he wondered just what she thought she was doing.

Murdock came down the stairs, dressed in his pajamas, and when he saw B.A. hoisting Jean off the ground like King Kong and Fay Wray, he immediately asked, "Hey B.A, what're you doing to my wife?"

"I ain't doing anything _to_ her," he said, "I'm trying to keep her from doing anything to herself. She' sleepwalking, man, I caught her trying to head out the back door."

Murdock went over to them and put his arms around Jean as B.A. put her down, and he talked to her, "Hey sweetheart, what's the matter, huh?"

"Hey man, she can't hear you," B.A. told him.

"B.A., please, I have a lot of experience with somnambulism," Murdock replied, "Somebody was _always_ having it at the V.A. whenever they weren't tied to their beds."

B.A. didn't like thinking about that, so he decided to leave it alone since Murdock _would_ have more experience with it than he would, so he stood back and watched as Murdock walked Jean into the living room and gently pushed her down on the couch as he tried waking her up.

"Come on, Saint," he said as he patted her cheek lightly, "What's the matter, huh? Is this your way of telling me you want a divorce?" he didn't laugh but it was obvious by his light tone that he was trying to be funny.

"This what you did with those people in the hospital?" B.A. asked curiously.

"Well all sleepwalkers are different, just like snowflakes," Murdock said, "But they all suffer from confusion and disorientation upon awakening because they have no recollection how they got out of their beds to wherever they are…however I've found it helps if you can establish contact with them so they _know_ who's with them when they wake up, it's a lot more progressive than just grabbing them and shaking them until they wake up screaming." He placed his hands on the sides of her face and asked her, "Come on, Jean, what's the matter?"

Jean didn't wake up and she didn't open her eyes, but her mouth started moving and both men were able to hear her talking, very quietly so they could only hear about half of the words. The part that they were able to make out came to, "Shouldn't have found out, shouldn't have found out, he shouldn't have come…"

"What's she talking about?" B.A. asked.

"Shh," Murdock lowered his ear next to her mouth so he could hear her better.

He could hear Jean murmuring, "They'll kill him, they'll kill him…colonel, they said if I got away, if _my colonel_ finds out, he will die…_my_ colonel? He's not my colonel, he shouldn't have found out."

Murdock bit his bottom lip and rested his chin on the crown of her head as he put together what she was saying. B.A. could tell by Murdock's reaction that he knew what it meant, and he asked, "What is it?"

"That's it," Murdock said, quietly, then he pulled away from Jean and stood up and said, much louder, "That's why she said not to tell Hannibal. That's why she said he didn't need to know!"

"What're you talking about, man?" B.A. asked.

He nodded his head mechanically like he was blindly agreeing with someone, and he told B.A., "We figured that one of those goons in green had to do _something_ to Jean that she wasn't telling us about, and they _did_, I don't know how they did it but they told Jean if Hannibal found out what they did to her, they'd kill him."

"Then that means that whoever they are, they know Hannibal," B.A. realized.

"And they know that she knows us," Murdock added, "So now we have to find out who _they_ are, then we gotta find out _where_ they are, and _what_ they're planning."

B.A. rolled his eyes and said, "Alright, I'll go get Hannibal and Faceman up, and you better get _her_ up so she can tell them the _whole_ story this time."

Murdock nodded, but once B.A. had left the room, he let out a long, heavy sigh and felt sorry for Jean for what she'd been put through. Now things were starting to make sense, sort of. Jean didn't want Hannibal finding out what had happened because his life had been threatened; that part of it made sense but it still didn't make sense at the same time, but Murdock had a feeling that they'd get the whole ugly story soon enough.


	9. Chapter 9

"That woman knew I was alive when they left," Jean told the four men later in the early morning when she'd been woken up and they'd all gathered in the living room to find out what was going on, "She said _if_ I got away, _if_ I managed to make my way back, she said if 'my colonel' was to find out anything that had happened, they would kill him, and I wasn't in any position at that time to do anything about it. I couldn't figure out what she meant by that, the only thing I could think of was they must know you and they must know that I'm with you guys."

"Why didn't you tell us that in the first place?" Hannibal wanted to know.

"This wasn't some idle threat, Hannibal," Jean told him, "This isn't like when somebody tells a kid that they'll kill their parents if they talk, just an empty threat to keep them scared…whoever these people are, they _know_ how you work. By now everybody knows that Hannibal Smith comes in directly through the front door, they know your strategy, they've managed to anticipate any plan of attack you could come up with, and they _know_ that if you found out what happened, you _would_ go out to that cabin, just as you did anyway. That's why I had hoped I could get in the house without you discovering me, I really didn't get any impression that they wanted _me_ dead, only to suffer, but _you_, I think they mean business."

"And you think they _would_ have just left you alone if you managed to get loose and get out of there?" he asked.

She didn't answer that and said only, "Let them come here…this is my home turf, I know every inch of this place, so if they tried attacking me here _they_'d be the ones on uncharted territory, their only advantage would be the sneak attack."

"Sometimes," Hannibal calmly explained, "That's the only advantage you need." And Jean knew that he wasn't talking about the people who had threatened her.

She shrugged and said, "Maybe you're right, Hannibal…what can I say? I got worried, I didn't want to take a chance of something going wrong, we already risked you dying on us once, I wasn't eager to try it again and see if it stuck this time."

"Well, I appreciate your concern, but I do know how to take care of myself," he replied, "Now is there _anything else_ that you haven't told us about?"

"When they were questioning me, they asked about what _you_ knew, how much _you_ knew."

"Knew about what?" Face asked.

"I don't know, the whole thing doesn't make any sense to me," Jean answered, "It's like whatever they _are_ doing, they think Hannibal knows something about it."

"Well it _would_ come in handy," Hannibal replied, "But they're getting a bit ahead of us there."

"So what do we do now?" Jean asked.

Hannibal thought about it, then got the idea that he was the center of attention, and looking around at the others he found his suspicions were correct, and he told them bluntly, "I'm thinking!"

Face smiled and said, "Well maybe while you're thinking, the rest of us can go back to sleep."

"Sounds good to me," Murdock agreed.

Hannibal nodded, "Nothing's going to be done tonight anyway, so let's get back to bed before it's time for breakfast."

Jean followed behind Hannibal and stopped him at the stairs and said, "Hey Hannibal, I'm sorry about all the trouble I caused."

Hannibal turned to her and didn't say anything for a minute. Jean waited for the reprimand she was sure she was going to get, but it never came. Hannibal put his arm around her and told her, "No problem, kid, we're just glad you're alright, you had us worried for a while."

Jean shook her head and said, "I was just trying to find a way to stall for time, to come up with a plan, I figured I could find a way to take care of the matter myself, so you wouldn't have to get involved."

"Well you ought to know us better than that," Hannibal told her, "But what was with the zombie act when we went back to the cabin?"

"Well we went over the place once so I knew they didn't booby trap it, so I figured if they were going to come back while we were there, if I was outside I'd be able to see them coming and I could warn you. They never came so I can't figure out what they must be thinking," Jean said.

Hannibal took a cigar out of his pocket and bit off the end of it, "Well, I have a few thoughts on the matter, but I'm going to sleep on them before I come to any conclusions. Goodnight, kid."

She stood at the foot of the stairs and watched Hannibal disappear up the stairway and she kept her gaze up to the second floor for a minute after he'd returned to his bedroom. She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Murdock and Face standing alongside each other as though they'd been discussing something.

"Well I'm going back to bed," Face told them, "Goodnight."

Jean moved to let him pass and after he'd gone up the stairs, Jean turned to Murdock and told him, "You know, he's never liked me."

Murdock replied without missing a beat, "Aw, Facey's always liked you."

"Not really," Jean said, "He especially hasn't liked me since we got married."

"Aw Facey's just got a little touch of the green-eyed bug," Murdock told her, "He won't admit it but he's worried that by my being married, I won't have as much time to spend with him as I always did. Besides, there's something else to consider."

"What's that?" Jean asked.

"Oh it's no secret," Murdock said, "The Faceman has always had a natural charm with the ladies, it's actually _very_ rare to find any woman that he can't work his magic on, and you are like hitting a brick wall at 120 miles an hour when it comes to that department."

"3 billion women in the world and he can't deal with the fact that one doesn't want him?" Jean asked.

"Well it's a little more than that now," Murdock told her, "You see when you told us about that woman, well..." he half shrugged and said, "You're right, we never thought about it before."

"If I was a man, Face wouldn't have half the problem with me that he does," Jean explained, "It's only because I'm a woman that he thinks I'm psychotic for doing what I do."

Murdock nodded and said, "He would have a marginally better grasp of that reality if you didn't remind him of every soft pretty thing he's ever gotten his hooks into. It's harder for him to believe because he's been with his fair share of women, and he wouldn't be able to picture any of them doing any of the things that you described."

"Yeah well something tells me he'd believe it if he saw _that_ woman," Jean remarked, "Incidentally, why is it you believe it when he doesn't?"

"Ah," Murdock said haughtily, as though she had just stumbled onto the answer to the Rubik's cube, "Such is the advantage of being insane, you can afford to be _very_ open minded towards ideas that everybody else shuns."

She smiled at him and told him, "I knew there was something about you that I liked."

Murdock returned the smile and said, "Besides, you've dealt Face a blow with this one because now he's realizing that there are a few more women in the world like _you_, instead of all the damsels in distress he _has_ come to the aid of over the years. And he knows that could hurt his chances of working his magic the next time he encounters a pretty girl."

Jean rested her head on Murdock's shoulder and asked him, "You think Hannibal's got a plan for this one?"

"If he doesn't yet, he will," Murdock assured her, "The Colonel _always_ has a plan, you can count on that."

Jean lifted her head up and nodded tiredly, "I guess it was pretty stupid thinking somebody could actually get the drop on him."

"Well," Murdock told her, "You know that Hannibal sees all of us through a father's eyes, it's perfectly natural for children to worry about their parents on occasion, even with the best intentions they can sometimes doubt their parents' abilities, it's all perfectly normal."

"I just don't want to see anything happen to him," she said.

"I know, none of us do," he said in agreement, "But Hannibal knows what he's doing, that's why he's the Colonel."

"Hmmmm," Jean turned away from him and seemed to be deep in thought.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Just had a thought," she answered, "Hannibal's a Colonel, Lynch was a Colonel, Decker's a Colonel, and Decker is sore that he never got to advance his rank due to the politics going on at the time in Vietnam, and even now he can't get promoted because of his _own_ bad attitude. Murdock, what's the next rank after Colonel?"

"After that come the Generals: Brigadier General, Major General, Lieutenant General, and then General regular, like coffee," he said, "Why?"

She was scratching her head as she said, "I just wonder if it's possible to find out who _Decker_ has to answer to at the end of the day when you guys get away."

* * *

Murdock opened the bedroom door and called in, "Face, you asleep?"

Face sighed and turned over in the bed and answered, "Not yet, what's up, Murdock?"

"Get up, I need you to settle something for us right now."

Face reluctantly kicked back the covers and stood up. The lights weren't turned on but he saw Murdock and Jean standing in the room.

"What's up, Murdock?" he asked as he went over to them.

"I want you to settle something right now," Murdock said, and pointing towards Jean he asked the lieutenant, "Do you like her?"

"Huh?" it was obvious Face wasn't expecting that.

"Do-you-like-me?" Jean asked in a resonating tone, "Or do you hate me?"

Even in the dark, they could see Face's wide-eyed response as he shook his head uncertainly and stammered, "N-no, I-I don't." He turned to Murdock and asked, "What's going on, Murdock?"

"It's a simple question, Faceman, do you like her or not?" Murdock asked, "I need to know, you're my best friend and she's my wife and I don't want there being any bad relations between any of us."

Face realized now was not the best time to remind Murdock that she wasn't going to be his wife for much longer, so he went around that point and said, "Sure, I like her." But he didn't sound convinced.

"Alright then," Murdock slowly nodded, and said, "Then I want you to come over here and I want you to give her a hug."

The breath that he'd just taken in left Face like air out of a deflating balloon, and Jean took a step back from both of them when Murdock said that.

"Is that really necessary?" Face asked.

"Yes," Murdock was relentless.

"Come on, Murdock," Jean said, "Don't be disgusting."

"No, I'm serious," Murdock put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a slight push over towards Face, "Face, you are my friend and if you are my friend then you will do this for me."

Face sighed and gave in, "Alright." He slowly moved to Jean as if he was expecting something to pop out and hit him along the way. He and Jean stood three inches apart from one another, and Face slowly put his arms around her, hesitating every inch of the way as if he was waiting for a booby trap to spring. When no bear traps latched onto his hand, he eased into the embrace a bit more and the rest came naturally. It was a good ten seconds before he realized that Jean was hugging him too, but for once it was without the intent of trying to choke him. He felt something else grab him and realized Murdock had latched an arm around both of them and he saw the satisfied grin on the pilot's face.

"Are ya happy now, Murdock?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Good…can I go back to bed now?" Face asked.

"Sure, we all will," Murdock said.

Face picked up between the lines on that one, but he didn't say anything; he didn't mind, it certainly wasn't the first time the three of them had shared a bed before. He climbed back in on his side, Jean squeezed into the middle beside him, and Murdock piled in on the other end and pulled the covers up on them. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," the other two replied.

* * *

The next morning everybody was gathered in the living room again as Hannibal explained the idea that had come to him over the night.

"If what Jean said is true and this woman was never _in_ the military, then from there we can probably assume that the rest of the outfit is a bunch of phonies as well."

"Then how'd they get the trucks?" Jean asked.

"Oh that would be very easy to do," Face said, "Especially if it happened to be at a time that nobody was looking, and even if they were, if they were in uniform they probably came with a con already in mind and sweet talked their way right out of there."

"Talking from experience I see," she commented.

Face rolled his eyes and decided to be quiet while Hannibal continued with his explanation.

"Alright, so if these people _did_ just walk in and make off with official army transportation for their own purposes…what would that be?" Hannibal asked.

"Could be anything," Jean said.

"Uh…" Murdock latched onto a thought, "Maybe they're smuggling something."

"That's what I thought," Hannibal said, the pride in his tone easy to pick up, as though Murdock was a student that just solved a brilliant problem on the blackboard, "The next question is _what_, and _what_ is it that they're using at least three trucks at a time for?"

"Again, it could be anything," Face said, "Who knows? Could be old weapons, drugs, bootleg whiskey, maybe even people, sell them in the black market slave rings or something."

"But we don't know where the trucks went, so how do we find out?" Jean asked.

"Uh…" Murdock raised his hand like a school kid who actually paid attention to the lesson and wanted to answer to show everybody what he knew.

"Yes, Murdock?" Hannibal asked.

"Face and I might have an idea of what happened to the car that the trucks were following yesterday," Murdock said, and he explained about their chase with the MP car that ended when he hit its windshield and it hit a fire hydrant.

"You can be sure," Face said, "There'll be _some_ report of that _somewhere_, if it's _not_ the real military police, then it'll at least be listed in the accident reports in the newspapers." He could see the look on Hannibal's face and saved him the trouble, "I'll check it out when I also look into who's currently inhabiting the cabin."

"Hey Hannibal," B.A. finally spoke up, "I don't like this, man, exactly how do we find out if it is or if it ain't the real thing we're dealing with?"

"Good point," Face said, "We can't very well call up Decker and ask him if somebody's stolen one of their cars and three trucks and see if he's interested in helping us find the impersonators responsible."

That seemed to set off a thought in Murdock's mind and he slapped Face on the knee repeatedly to get his attention, and started to whisper his idea in the lieutenant's ear.

"Something you'd care to share with the rest of us, Captain?" Hannibal asked.

He'd already told Face his idea, and Face pulled back and looked at him as if he'd lost his mind all over again. "Hannibal, you better sit down," he advised the colonel, "This one's a real lulu."

"Don't tell me," Hannibal said as he made himself comfortable in one of the chairs, "We call up Decker and ask him if he's interested in helping us?"

"Not exactly," Face replied, staring at Murdock in disbelief.

Murdock had a sheepish look on his face, as though now that he'd actually said what he was thinking, he wasn't sure it was a good idea.

"Well, Murdock?" Hannibal asked.

"Not Decker," he answered, "But somebody close to him."

"What?" B.A. asked.

"Of course, that captain that's always with him, Crane!" Jean said in sudden understanding, "He might be willing to put the politics aside and help us find out what's going on."

"Big maybe," Hannibal pointed out.

"On the other hand though," Face spoke up, "If we find out the guy's name on the lease of the cabin matches with somebody working in the military police, then that could at least point us in the right direction, and then if it doesn't match, then I'm sure they'd be interested to know there's somebody running around pretending to be the army at the expense of any authentic military equipment they can get their hands on." He could tell that the others weren't following, so he talked a bit faster, like he always did when he tried to assert his point into the middle of Hannibal's view, "You know, they've got all those computer systems that are so quick and efficient and can run a person's name or prints and come up with the desired results in a matter of minutes or maybe an hour, that's how they always find us so quick…_much_ better than anything we could come up with on our own. Whatever _is_ going on, it has to be _something_ that would be of interest to the army instead of just continuously trying to bring our heads in on a platter."

Hannibal shook his head, "I doubt Crane would go for it."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Jean said, "You weren't there the last time we saw him, I got the idea that Murdock and I made a very _lasting_ impression on him."

"Yeah, but do you really think he'd be willing to help us?" Face asked.

"I'm sure we could make the good captain see things our way," Jean said, "He's just one of those people you have to know how to talk to, say…with a grenade in one hand and the pin in the other."

Face choked on a laugh and said, "With that kind of opener, you could get _Decker's_ attention and bypass Crane completely."

An idea occurred to Jean and she said to Hannibal, "There are only two reasons I can think of why somebody would need military transportation to smuggle anything anywhere…either passing themselves off as the military gives them the immunity to pass through a checkpoint with no questions asked…"

"Or?" Hannibal returned.

"Or it _is_ the military, and it's back to the trafficking business as usual, because _nobody_ is going to question the integrity of the men in uniform _or_ their intentions."

"We should be able to find out soon either way," Hannibal told her, "As soon as Face can get us a name to check on."

Face rolled his eyes and got up from the couch, "Right, Hannibal, I'm on it."

* * *

Face left late in the morning to find the name on the cabin, and he came back early in the afternoon with a name for them to go on: James Pike. It wasn't anybody they had ever heard of, and it wasn't a name he had been able to find any information on, and he'd been gone long enough that they knew he had exhausted every possible search he could run on the name.

"Well," he said as he dropped on the couch beside Jean and Murdock, exhausted, "Is anybody else interested in giving up?"

"What about calling Amy?" Murdock asked, "Maybe she can find something about the guy."

"I tried," Face told him, "She's still not home yet and I checked down at the L.A. Courier Express, she's still out of town."

"Well isn't that convenient?" Jean asked.

"So the most likely explanation for that one is it's just an alias," Hannibal said, "He wants to make sure nobody can track him by his real identity."

"So now what do we do, Hannibal?" B.A. asked.

Face spoke up, "I _did_ manage to find out that the 'accident' that occurred yesterday was published in the daily paper, written off as a one vehicle accident, and absolutely no mention about it being a MP car."

"Would they say if it was, though?" Jean asked.

"Well…I'm not sure, but I did notice that they didn't bother saying _who_ was in the car," Face said, "So that says to me that somebody got it all hushed up."

"_Sounds_ like the army to me," Murdock noted.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Jean said, "We're only going in circles."

"I know it," Face replied, "Got any ideas, Hannibal?"

"One," the colonel answered as he puffed on his cigar, "It didn't look like whoever was at the cabin had raided the place entirely…there _is_ the possibility that whoever it is plans to return, and soon."

"Great, but how're you going to find out when?" Jean asked him.

"Well based on the food they had in the fridge there, I'd say whoever it is will be returning in a few days," Hannibal answered, "And when they do, we're going to be ready for them."

"Here we go again," Face murmured to Murdock with a roll of his eyes.

"What?" Jean asked.

Face leaned over to her and explained, "I get the idea that this is going to be another one of Hannibal's plans that I _really_ don't like."

"Face, has Hannibal ever had a plan that you _did_ like?" she asked.

Face turned to glare at her but was knocked back when he saw Murdock was staring at him in the same questioning way that she was, as if he was also waiting for the answer to that one.

* * *

Hannibal was right, James Pike, or whatever his real name was, _did_ return to the cabin, three nights later, and when he came he brought back one of the trucks with him. It was after midnight when he pulled up outside, and he'd been there enough times that he didn't bother turning on the lights when he went in the front door. That proved to be his mistake because en route to the second room, he tripped over something just past the threshold. The lights came on and he saw four men with guns aimed on him, and he also saw a woman on the floor with another gun aimed at him.

"Always knew that sleeping on the floor would be good for _something_," Jean commented as she stood up.

"How bout it, Jean?" Hannibal asked, taking in the sight of the man who looked about 25 and was built slightly better than a gangly teenager. "Is this the guy?"

"Nah, Hannibal," she answered, "This isn't the one that messed with me, I recognize him, he's one of the drivers."

"Well that'll do," Hannibal said, and turned to the sergeant, "B.A."

"Get up here, sucker," B.A. said as he grabbed the man by his arm and jerked him to his feet.

"Your name James Pike?" Hannibal asked.

The man was groaning in pain because B.A. had his arm in a hydraulic press grip, squeezing it to a point the man was bent over backwards from the pain, but he managed to get out, "Yeah, yeah, that's me!"

"Hmmm, you haven't been a very easy man to find, Mr. Pike," Hannibal noted, "Are we to assume that you have another name?"

The man screamed in pain as B.A. squeezed his arm a little tighter and answered frantically, "Yeah, yeah, it's Corbin…" he was just about to pass out from the pain and begged Hannibal, "Get him off of me."

"Alright, B.A., I think that's enough for now," Hannibal told him.

B.A. grunted unsatisfactorily as he let go of the man. Hannibal had Jean come over to him and he asked Corbin, "You recognize _her_?"

It was obvious from the look on his face that he did, though he didn't say anything to confirm or deny it.

"Now," Hannibal told him, "Either you tell us what we want to know, or we're going to let you take your luck going ten rounds with our staff sergeant here, you got me?" He didn't wait for the man to answer and added, "We know you brought the truck, is it loaded up?"

"Yeah," Corbin answered.

"Fine," Hannibal grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and said, "Let's go take a look at the inventory, shall we?"

Face remained coy with the man as they headed outside and he said, "You know, I'm really glad you showed up when you did, we've taken the liberty of keeping the dust from settling around here for the last three days and to be honest I've had all of this communing with nature that I can take." He gestured back to Murdock and said, "Especially given my roommate of choice, or lack thereof."

It wasn't that Face minded bunking with Murdock, what he _did_ mind were the 5 A.M. wakeup calls when Murdock decided to imitate the bird calls outside the window, his impressions always being screeched at the top of his lungs so the birds would be sure to hear him. That had been the first problem with bunking with Murdock; the second part was that Jean had stayed in the bedroom with them, and the first time Face shot up in bed screaming, he looked over and saw that while Murdock was howling like a dozen wild animals, Jean was in the second bed still peacefully asleep. He couldn't believe it and fell back against his own bed in disbelief. At first he thought she was just messing with him, but he picked up a paperweight off the nightstand and tossed it at Jean and managed to hit her with it, and _that_ was when she shot up in bed demanding to know what was going on. He remembered rolling his eyes and asking her, "You really mean to tell me you can't hear _that_?"

She had turned to the window and saw Murdock jumping up and down screeching like a bird and she said, "Well I can _now_, what'd you wake me up for?"

"How can you sleep through that?" he asked her.

"Oh I can sleep through anything," she answered as she turned back over and closed her eyes, and she added, "I once slept through them blowing the tornado sirens, thankfully it was a false alarm."

Face couldn't help but wondering just how crazy a person had to be to be blessed with such heavy sleeping abilities.

They went out to the truck and Hannibal shone his flashlight in the back. "Hmmm…looks like Los Angeles is due for a snowstorm."

"What?!" Jean asked, then glaring at Corbin she added, "Oh-ho, so it _is_ back to business as usual, eh?" She grabbed him and was about to ram her fist as far into his stomach as she could manage, but Face and Murdock managed to stop her.

Hannibal pulled out a large bag of white powder and said, "I doubt whoever the brains of this outfit is, is planning to open up a bakery. Face, take a look in there, how much would you wager they're moving?"

Face also looked in the back of the truck and said, "Looks like about a hundred bags, and if each bag is one kilo…uh yeah," he looked back to their prisoner and said, "That would be a lot of powdered sugar."

"Alright, Corbin," Hannibal went back to the man, "I've got a few more questions before I decide what we're going to do with you. First one I want to know, who's the woman who was here four days ago?"

"I don't know," he said, and when B.A. moved to grab him he jumped back and said, "I swear, I never knew her name."

"Did you know anybody who was here that day?" Face asked.

"Just the other drivers," he answered, "We got our orders and we came in."

"Orders from who?" Hannibal asked.

"From the Colonel," the young man said.

Murdock took a step closer to the man and had his gun aimed so Corbin would be shot in the guts if he failed to give them a satisfactory answer as he asked, "Alright, but what's any of this got to do with _our_ colonel?"

Corbin looked at him like he knew Murdock's history so knew he was crazy and said, "What?"

"You were here during the inquisition," Jean told him, "You heard that bimbo say if I got out of here, that _my_ Colonel would die…well there he is," she pointed at Hannibal, "How does he figure into any of this?"

The man looked at them as if they all were crazy and replied, "What're you talking about? That's not the colonel."

"It just gets better and better," Face dryly commented.

It took very little persuasion to get the ball rolling on the long, drawn out explanation. Apparently what was going on was that whoever Corbin was working for, which according to him, was divided into members of the army, and people who had not been enlisted so they weren't readily accessible on any files for identification, himself included there, were facing a competition problem from people in the other branches of the military. Their biggest problem was with a group that operated out of the Air Force since they could fly the goods out of the country and therefore ensure the fastest delivery.

"This is why I don't like the bad guys," Face cynically commented to the others, "Their greed consumes them and that's what makes it impossible for them to work together, they're doomed to fall apart in the end."

So now they had the answer for what had happened to Jean. The people at the cabin had seen her in an Air Force uniform and assumed she was out there spying to report back for the other side; Hannibal had never been the target of anybody's threats, which was one relief for everybody, but now they had a bigger problem to deal with.

"Alright, Corbin," Hannibal said, "This is your lucky day, because I'm inclined to believe you're telling us the truth. I'm even willing to believe that you really _don't_ know the names of the people that you pick up and drop off the hauls for, since I could see this being a particularly large operation, probably with more members involved than a potato has eyes…but you _do_ know who the man in charge is that's pulling all the strings, that's why you're in the middle of this in the first place."

"Yes."

"Alright, then you're going to tell us who it is," Hannibal said.

"If I tell you, they're going to kill me," Corbin told him.

"If you don't tell me, _I'll_ kill you," Hannibal warned him.

"Alright, alright," he surrendered, "It's the Colonel, he's the one that oversees everything."

"Right, who is he?" Hannibal asked.

"Decker, the man's name is Decker!" Corbin told them.

Suddenly the outside became quiet enough that a pin would be heard dropping in the woods.

* * *

"I always knew Decker was a miserable excuse for a human being," Jean said to Murdock, still feeling in shock at this sudden revelation, "But I never took him for a drug dealer."

The two of them and Face and B.A. were all seated on the back of the truck as they watched Hannibal pace back and forth maniacally as he huffed and puffed on his cigar like he was the big bad wolf; and if he didn't stop it soon they were worried he might actually swallow it. After they got all the information they could out of Corbin, they took him, and one of the bags of heroin and personally escorted him to the police station; left him right outside the front door all tied up, gagged and, at Murdock's insistence, with a big bow on top of his head, and the usual sign tied to his chest explaining just why he was supposed to be locked up. They hadn't bothered with the rest of the merchandise because they realized this was bigger than any of them had realized and Hannibal needed time to come up with a plan before they could do anything more.

"No no no," Hannibal shook his head as he continued to smoke furiously, "Not Decker, there's something wrong here."

Jean laughed dryly and said, "Now I _know_ you're not about to tell us that Decker is too upstanding a person to do such a thing."

"That he _is_," Hannibal replied, "Believe it or not."

"You can't be serious," she said.

"I don't know," Face broke in, "Decker's done a lot of detestable things but he was _never_ known in 'Nam for having anything to do with the dealers…that's more like General Chow, remember that, Hannibal?"

Hannibal didn't seem to be paying any attention though. He kept moving back and forth and seemed focused on something else.

"Decker's problem was he was too overzealous in his work," Hannibal said, "He didn't serve in Vietnam just to kill, he was in it to annihilate, to obliterate, to leave nothing standing between him and the Viet-Cong and bring them to their knees. He's a bloodthirsty animal, I'll grant you that, but this…" he shook his head again, "Not his style, no way. Something has to be wrong."

"Corbin said the man giving the orders is Colonel Decker," Murdock said, "How many Colonel Deckers can there _be_ in the army, Colonel?"

"I know, I know," Hannibal conceded, "It still doesn't make any sense."

"Hannibal, why do you think it can't be possible?" Jean asked.

"Because," Hannibal said over his cigar, "Decker may be a miserable excuse for a human being, but we are a lot more alike than either of us is willing to admit…you might say I know him too well to think he _could_ be involved."

"You think Corbin lied then?" she asked.

"He's not smart enough for that," Hannibal said, "So we've got to find out what's going on."

"Right, but how?" Face asked.

Hannibal stopped in mid-stride and he did nearly swallow his cigar as he exclaimed, "I've got it!" He turned on his heel to face the others and commented, "Kind of ironic how those people weren't even talking about me, and yet they knew my style very well."

"Uh-oh, what've you got planned, Hannibal?" Face asked.

"What I do best," he answered, "We _are_ going to go in through the front door on this one…_Decker's_ front door."

"What!?" they asked.

B.A. looked over to Murdock and said in a concerned tone, "Man's actually lost his mind."

Even Murdock had to nod his head in agreement.

Author's note: Like it or hate it, I'm anxious to know what everybody thinks.


	10. Chapter 10

If Decker would've had any idea that the A-Team had planned to pay him a visit, not even in the building where he worked, but in his own _home_, he probably would've had a welcome wagon equipped with machine guns and flash grenades. As it was, he was completely unaware that he was due for any company, until the middle of the night when he was in bed asleep, and suddenly felt somebody clamp his nose shut. He opened his eyes and even though the room was dark, he was able to make out the figure of somebody standing over him.

"Hello, Decker."

Roderick felt his eyelids fly open, he knew that voice! As the fingers let go of his nose and pulled away, he sat up in bed and looked at the shape in front of him and said, with the damnedest timing since that was right when the lights came on in his room. "Hannibal Smith!"

And he wasn't alone. B.A. and Face stood on either side of Hannibal, and both of them with guns drawn and aimed at Decker. Face took the liberty since Decker seemed to be in a momentary shock, to pull back the covers and make sure Decker wasn't sleeping with a piece nearby. No gun, but he couldn't help commenting with a less than straight face, "I love your pajamas."

Decker was staring daggers right at Hannibal and as he got up he demanded to know, "How the hell did you get in here?"

"Well you know," Hannibal said as he lit his cigar, "I have to give you props, Decker, you have a very state of the art security system around here…but I'll tell you it sure isn't any help if there's a sudden power failure."

Decker's attention was turned to the approaching sound of more people coming down the hallway. He looked to the door and was convinced that this night couldn't get any worse as he saw Murdock come in, with Crane following behind him, and Jean walked in behind Crane.

"Crane, what the hell is going on?" Decker asked.

"Sorry, sir," Crane shook his head, "It wasn't my idea."

"We made a little detour on the way," Hannibal explained, "Thought we'd get you two together for this one."

Crane appeared to have one up on Decker at least, he wasn't in his uniform but apparently they had gotten to him before he went to bed for the night. Jean came out from behind Crane and went over to Decker and slipped something into his hand as she said, "Here, hold this for me, would ya?"

Decker glanced down and saw a grenade pin in his hand and then he realized that Jean was holding the grenade it came out of, and he felt his eyes grow three times their natural size.

"Now," Jean said as she got in his face, "I might just be the dumb kid from New York, but it's to my understanding that without the pin in this pineapple, the second that I let go of this lever here…that means we have about ten seconds before we all get blown to hell." She pressed further down on the lever and told him, "It's a minute waltz, Decker, so start dancing."

"What the hell is this?" Decker demanded to know as he turned to Hannibal, "Have you lost your mind, Smith?"

Hannibal smirked and said, "I wonder how many times I'm going to be hearing that this week."

Decker persevered, "Whatever in hell gave you the idea to come out here?"

Hannibal look put out as he said, "That's the thanks we get for making a courtesy call to an old friend." He turned and saw that Face and B.A. were barely able to keep from cracking at that remark, and he turned back to Roderick and told him, "We're here for one of two reasons, Decker, either somebody's running around using your name to pin his crimes to, or you've been holding out on us for 15 years."

"What in the _hell_ are you talking about, Smith?" Decker asked.

"Oh it's really very simple," Face told him, "Are you now, or have you ever used your authority in the army to oversee drug smuggling operations?"

Decker opened his mouth to respond but stopped when he felt the barrel of a gun jabbing into his back, he turned around and took a step back from Murdock and answered simply, "Hell no, what is this about?"

"If you want to get your clothes on and take a little ride," Hannibal told him, "We can show you. Somebody has been operating under the title of one Colonel Roderick Decker to green light current members of the army, as well as several imposters, smuggling millions of dollars of heroin to destinations unknown, escorted in the army's own transportation."

Hannibal might as well have been spouting off in Swahili for all the sense he was making to Decker. Still, given that he didn't seem to have any options, he got dressed and agreed to go with them to see just what in the hell Hannibal was talking about.

"Step it up, Decker," Jean calmly called into his walk-in closet, "I think I'm starting to lose my grip here."

Decker grumbled a few choice words for her under his breath as he hurriedly buttoned his shirt and threw on his jacket.

"Alright, alright," he snapped at her, "Now cork up that grenade."

"Can't," Jean answered, "You had the pin."

That didn't seem to be of a priority to Hannibal, he poked Decker in the chest and said, "Before they find it, I want to make something clear."

"What?" Decker asked.

"Well I understand that you have your job to do, that is hunting us relentlessly, and I know that for you it's more than a job, that you go above and beyond your own call of duty to try and catch us…but we're looking at something here that takes high precedence over three escapees who broke out of Fort Bragg 10 years ago. Personally, I don't give a damn if you realize we're doing you a favor by pulling your head off the chopping block before the man in the black hood shows up, but I _do_ expect you to acknowledge that we came here as a favor to you. We're all adults here, I think for the time being anyway, a truce is in order."

Decker would've rather thrown himself over Niagara Falls in a paper bag than make a truce with Hannibal Smith, but he looked and saw that Jean's fingers were starting to loosen their grip on the lever, and that was all the persuasion he needed. "Okay, okay," he finally gave in, "You've got your truce…even though I don't have one idea what in the hell you're talking about."

"That's fine with me," Hannibal said, "Alright, now where's the pin?"

"Oh, here it is," Murdock said as he picked it up off the dresser.

He put the pin back in and Jean let out a grunt of relief as she took her hand off the lever and pocketed the grenade. As they left the bedroom in single file, with Decker and Crane in the middle, Roderick couldn't help overhearing Jean ask, "Are these impact grenades or time delay grenades?"

"Time," Murdock answered.

"Oh, poor choice," Jean said, "Those often wait a few seconds longer to explode than necessary, so if you have a quick opponent, he can grab it up and hot potato it back to you and…well talk about getting hoisted by your own petard."

Decker didn't say anything since he knew she still had the damn thing with her, but he was starting to get the idea that he was completely surrounded by a bunch of people who'd lost their damn minds.

"We took the liberty of bringing Crane's car," Jean told Decker, "However if you don't mind," she grinned to emphasize the joke, as if he'd had a choice, "_I'll_ drive."

"And I'm coming along with you," Hannibal added, and he flashed his toothy grin at Decker and told him, "I'll be very happy to catch you up on what's been going on lately."

Decker groaned under his breath and said, "I wake _up_ and _then_ the nightmare begins."

Hannibal chuckled and bit down on his cigar.

* * *

They escorted Decker and Crane out to the cabin and showed them the truck and its inventory as well. After one look in the back, Decker turned around and was scratching his head, "The idiot you caught said that _I_ oversaw this?"

"He said you were the head of the operation," Hannibal corrected him.

"What'd you say his name was?"

"James Corbin, but it won't do you any good," Jean told him, "He's not military, he only passed himself off as being in."

"He _did_ give us the names of the two other drivers he was working with the other day though," Face said, "We figured you could run them through your own database and see if it sets off any bells. One Marcus McTeague and one Quinton Stillo."

Decker felt somebody's finger trying to stab him in the back repeatedly and he turned around and glared at Jean, who was the owner of the finger. She looked at him with an innocent grin and said, "Houston, we have another problem with this whole mess. Uh…you don't by chance have a girlfriend, do you?"

"_What_?" he asked.

"I take that as a no," she said, "Then this shouldn't come as _too_ big of a shock to you. There's a woman involved in this whole matter as well, and as far as we can tell, on this end of the business she's the brains of the outfit. You wouldn't happen to know anything about _that_, would you?"

"I don't know one thing about _anything_ that you've said since you broke into my house," he told them.

"Well that's _no_ reason to be nasty about it," Face replied sarcastically.

"What about the truck?" Jean asked Decker.

He took a step back from her so she wasn't in his face and he answered, "There are no recent reports of any of our vehicles coming up missing _or_ stolen."

"Then that means whoever took them out _is_ somebody on your side who has the authority to okay them moving out," Face noted, "Of course _then_ there's the matter of the car."

"What car?" Decker asked.

"One of your lights and sirens sedans," Jean answered, "You see whoever was driving one of those cars, was leading the convoy of dope smugglers down the road…but _then_, once they got done with me here, whoever was in the car chased after Murdock and Face, losing them only when the MP car hit a fire plug. Would _you_ happen to know anything about that one?"

"No I don't," Decker answered matter-of-factly.

Crane seemed to remember something and he spoke up. "One of those cars _did_ come up missing…we thought _you_ had stolen it."

"Well I for one am _insulted_," Face said, clutching his chest in feign offense.

"Yeah," Jean added and asked, "Why would we take one of your cars a second time?" That comment earned her a firm elbow to the ribs from Face.

"Well whoever _did_ have it managed to keep all the little specific details out of the accident report," Face said, "Which says either the driver had some pull, or was able to convince the cops who investigated the crash that he did."

"Either way you can see how this looks bad for the army, don't you?" Jean asked Decker.

Hannibal tried not to laugh but he could see Decker was starting to lose it and about ready to kill Jean himself. He turned around and knocked her back in the process and he asked her, "And just _where_ do you come into all of this?"

"Oh, she had a center seat in it," Hannibal said, "They tried to kill her because they thought she was some competition from the Air Force."

"The _what_?" Decker asked.

Jean shook her head, "It's no use, Hannibal, you would've been better off letting them hang him for this mess."

"Well when a dog's already down, why kick him?" Hannibal returned as he took out his lighter and lit a new cigar, "Besides, Decker's already got enough problems with his stubborn inabilities to put the past behind him, I'd simply _hate_ to see him wind up on charges for drug trafficking if he's really _not_ involved. Especially since we're talking about enough dope to bypass the 20-year prison sentence and probably just aim straight for a firing squad execution."

Murdock was humming something to himself and scratching his head as a thought occurred to him, "Hannibal, I have a question. You remember back in the 70s there was that report about the Texas Tranquilizer?"

"Yeah, so?" Hannibal asked.

"Uh…" Murdock pointed to the back of the truck and asked, "What do you think would happen if one of the Air Force choppers moving this stuff out, had to unexpectedly dump all the drugs out into the ocean? You know, Corbin said that they got stiff competition with the Air Force because they can fly the stuff out, making for faster deliveries, but he didn't say that there was a better guarantee of the package actually getting to whoever's ordered it in."

"Oh boy," Face said as he considered that possibility, "A hundred keys of heroin in the water supply…" he looked to the others and said, "If that happened then that would make the odds of any zombie movie ever made coming to life a very good possibility, wouldn't it?"

"Wait a minute," something occurred to Decker, "Where is this stuff being moved _to_?"

"That was one thing Corbin couldn't tell us," Hannibal answered, "He's just a driver, he picks up the load, he drives it to wherever he's told to, and then somebody else takes it over from there."

"All the same, his position is important enough that he gets his orders directly from whoever is putting _your_ name on _his_ actions," Face added.

"And unfortunately," Hannibal told Decker, "The description that he was able to give us _does_ match any way somebody could identify _you_."

"I hope you realize how lucky you are that Hannibal was willing to bet that it really was_n't_ you," Jean added, "If it was me I'd be fine with letting them hang you."

Before Decker could open his mouth to respond, Hannibal pointed out, "We have another problem though. We have to find out where the other two trucks are and we have to find out where they're en route to _before_ they get smart to the fact that their third driver and third shipment has disappeared."

"Well they can't be far off now," Face said, "Obviously they had to have just gotten this batch."

Murdock made a sound like he'd developed a slow leak and he went over to Hannibal and said something into his ear, acting for all intents and purposes like an excited puppy, to the point he was practically clawing Hannibal with anticipation.

"Good point, Murdock," Hannibal said, and he went over to Decker and said to him, "We're going to need you to clear a helicopter for us."

"A _helicopter_?" Decker came very close to losing it right then and there.

"Right," Jean came up to him and explained, "These guys are taking back roads and places that you can't follow without drawing attention to yourself, but you can see from the air what you can't see from the ground. And if they see it's one of their own choppers, they're not going to think anything about that."

Decker groaned as he considered all possibilities and he muttered, "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"I know, but you don't really have any choice, do you?" Face asked, flashing his own trademark grin.

Decker caught in the corner of his eye a glimpse of Jean slipping her hand into her front pocket where she'd put the hand grenade and he said, much as it killed him to, "No, I suppose I don't."

* * *

Hannibal pushed the filing cabinet drawer shut with his stomach as he dropped the files on the desk, "Sorry to mess up your décor, Decker, but I think in the end it'll prove worth it."

"Why the hell did I agree to help you?" Decker asked, more to himself than the other people standing in his office, tearing everything up as they looked through the available records on everybody working there.

"You didn't," Face answered as he flipped through three thick folders, "We agreed not to blow you up in exchange for you not blowing the whistle on us."

"Peck, you said you didn't even _see_ who was driving the car when they opened fire on you," Decker reminded him, "Exactly _how_ do you plan to identify who was in it?"

"I don't," he answered, and pointed to Jean, "But if anybody who you work with on a daily basis was at that cabin and is up to their eyeballs in this mess, then _she's_ going to know."

Jean hooked her thumb into the flesh at the corner of her eye and pulled it so her eyeball slanted and she said, "I might not have an eye for details but I _do_ remember faces." She let her face fall back into its natural shape and added, "Incidentally, Decker, do you have any women working in this establishment?"

"No."

"Ah," Jean smirked, "That explains your ever-sunny disposition."

Face looked like he'd just been hit over the head with a sack full of bricks and he asked Jean, "What _does_ this woman look like anyway?"

"Well she's about three inches taller than me," she said, "Blonde hair…it was tied back so I couldn't tell you how long it was, with brown in it, what do you call that? Sandy brown, dirty blonde, something like that? Uh…she's skinnier than I am…I think. But she wears a size larger uniform, on the top because she's got these wide shoulders."

"No eye for detail?" Hannibal asked her.

"Well…" she shrugged, "When you spend half an hour with somebody who's trying to kill you, you tend to pick up things."

"Does that sound like anybody you know?" Hannibal asked.

Decker shook his head. He heard a ringing in his ears, not realizing that it was the phone on his desk. Jean picked the receiver off the hook and answered it.

"I spend a year chasing after you," Decker told Hannibal, "And _then_ when I get you personally delivered into my lap, I can't touch you."

"Well try not to beat yourself up, Roderick," Hannibal said, "We both know that you wouldn't be able to keep us here anyway."

"Just a minute," Jean covered the mouthpiece and held the receiver out, "Roddy, it's for you."

Decker turned and realized for the first time that there was somebody on the phone. "Who is it?"

"Says his name is General Bullen," Jean said, "That your boss?"

Decker looked like he'd just been bitten by a rattlesnake. Hannibal noticed this and commented, "I'd say that's a yes."

"Give me that phone," Decker said through gritted teeth.

Jean did, and then hightailed it over to the other side of the office where the others were as they watched this side of the phone call. Decker managed to keep his usual, borderline deadpan disposition in place as he answered, "Yes, General? Oh…nothing, just one of the new incompetents working here," he glared at Jean, "Uh-huh…look we…" Decker nodded with whatever the general was saying and he said, "I know what time it is, Bullen. We just got a tip about the A-Team's whereabouts, it's a backwoods area, we can get our cars in there but it'll be hard as hell to find anything, with the bird's eye view of a chopper we'll have a much easier time finding out if there's anybody actually there or if this is just another crank."

It was obvious that Decker was starting to have some difficulty remaining civil with the man on the other end of the line. He crossed one foot over the other and said into the receiver, "All due respect, General, I don't give a damn if you like it or not, you put me on this case to get the A-Team, make up your mind, do you want them or not? Alright, then we're going to need the helicopter…no, don't bother, I already have somebody here who can fly it." He eyeballed Murdock and then looked away with a new expression on his face, one that Hannibal could read as translating to an afterthought 'I hope'.

By the time Decker got off the phone with the General, he looked like he'd just walked out of having a root canal without the benefit of anesthesia.

"More of that political pressure the generals throw around so well?" Hannibal inquired.

"I ought to have all of you shot for what's going on here," Decker said.

"Would you stop complaining?" Murdock asked, "You caught a break, just think if word had come down that _you_ were the one overseeing those shipments, each truck carrying 100 keys of heroin, we're talking at least a thousand kilos easy, maybe ten thousand, you know what the big guys upstairs would do to you then?"

"Speaking of which," Jean said to Hannibal, "Where are these morons _getting_ this stuff from?"

"Same place everybody _gets_ their supply from," Hannibal said, "Some money hungry piece of scum that cuts it with whatever's lying around handy to cut down on the purity and drag every extra dollar out of it that's possible."

"But how are they getting so much of it so fast?" Jean asked.

"To get that answer we're going to have to find out where the source _is_," Face said.

"And for that, we're going to have to find out where they're going," Murdock added, "So when do we get the chopper?"

Jean leaned over to Hannibal and murmured to him, "This whole thing seems to really be killing Decker."

"Yes, I noticed that too," he replied.

Jean grinned and told him, "I'm loving every minute of it."

"It _is_ a rarity to enjoy up close and personal," he chuckled.

* * *

"You think Hannibal's going to be alright with Crane and Decker down there?" Jean asked Murdock from the cockpit of the chopper as they gazed down upon the world beneath them.

"Oh I'm sure the Colonel knows what he's doing," Murdock told her, "Besides, we already searched them both, three times, and besides we fixed the radio in their car before we went to pick Decker up last night, that way it only works with the radio in the van and up here."

"Yeah, but how do we know that Decker's going to keep his word?"

"Oh we know him better than that," Murdock said, "That's why before we took off I took Decker aside and explained to him that if anything happens to Hannibal, or Face, or the big guy, that when he gets home he's going to find a little package in his office, the type that goes 'tick…tick…tick…kaboom!'"

"Think he's convinced though?" she asked.

"Well I may have led him to believe that it was an 18-sticks-of-dynamite variety of bomb…if that went off we'd be lucky to find one of his teeth in the aftermath."

Jean looked over at him and said, "I knew you had a mean streak in you."

Murdock laughed and told her, "Honey, that's nothing…did I ever tell you about the time I tried to throw a man out of his own helicopter while it was up in the air?"

"No."

"Oh, well, this was back when we went to Arizona to help Daniel Running Bear, that man who wrote back to you…anyway he had a…"

"Hey Murdock," Jean pointed to the windshield, "Look down there."

"Ah ha," Murdock grabbed the radio and said into it, "Hannibal, I do believe we've found our mystery guests. I'm looking down the roof side of two green canvassed trucks and their drivers do _not_ look happy."

"Great, where are you, Murdock?" Hannibal responded.

"Hang a right off the main road, head out north northeast for ten miles, and…it looks like up ahead about a mile from where they are is a small cemetery, I don't know how obvious it'll be from the view on the ground but, I'm seeing a lot of crosses up here, Colonel."

"Think there's a connection?" Hannibal asked.

"I don't know, I'm going to circle around and see if I pick anything else up," Murdock told him, "How long do you think it'll take you to get here?"

"Hang on, let me see," they could still hear Hannibal on the radio though it sounded like he'd put it down. They heard him grumble something about 95 miles an hour and then heard him resume loud and clear, "About 10 minutes, think they'll be there that long?"

"If they try and leave I'll keep them grounded," Murdock promised.

"Alright," they heard Hannibal reply, "We're on our way."

"We'll keep in touch," Murdock said.

Jean looked back after they'd passed over the trucks and she told Murdock, "They never saw us, they never even looked up."

"Of course not," he told her, "They're looking for a third truck, does _this_ look like a truck?"

As they came closer to the cemetery, Murdock looked and saw something that made him do a double take. "Hey Saint, do you see what I see?"

She did. "More MP cars." They saw about three cars gathered inside the cemetery gates. Jean grabbed the radio and got off a brief, "Hannibal…" before Murdock grabbed the radio away from her.

"Hannibal, are the men in green with you positive that only one of their cars was stolen?"

"Why, Murdock?" Hannibal asked.

"Because there're three more at the cemetery and if it's a welcoming committee for us, then that means that lizard Decker managed to slither under our noses completely."

Hannibal was still holding onto the radio they could hear the scuffle going on in the car between the three men, but nothing was distinct, until Hannibal came back on and said, "They say they don't know anything about it."

"Hang on," Murdock replied, "I'll double around and see if I can find out what's going on."

He got the helicopter turned around so fast, Jean was knocked against the window on her side, but she too was too busy watching the scene down below to pay much attention to it. This time they were able to see men in uniforms gathered by the cars, each facing another.

"Think it's a meeting of the minds?" Jean asked.

"I doubt they have enough minds to go around," Murdock told her, "Looks more like money changing hands."

"What the hell is going on around here?" she asked him.

"I think we're going to find out soon enough," Murdock said as he looked up ahead and saw the van and Crane's car coming their way.

Murdock took the chopper down and made a relatively soft landing behind a thicket of trees, he was sure that the drivers of the vehicles up ahead could hear it go down but he doubted they'd have enough time to wonder about it. Face threw open the door of the van so they could jump in as they raced ahead to their intended destination.

"Alright," they heard Hannibal on the radio, "Let's do it."

They heard the sirens come on in the sedan and saw the red lights spinning around and saw the car speed ahead of them. By this time the drivers had moved the trucks directly up to the cemetery's entrance gates. The men by the trucks saw they had company coming and scrambled. The van and car pulled up and everybody jumped out with their guns on the drivers, who quickly realized the futility of their situation and grabbed the sky. Hannibal grabbed the rifle that was inches away from one man's grasp and said, "Now, let's get down to business." He slung the rifle over his own shoulder and asked the man, "How much heroin you carrying?"

The man laughed defiantly and told him, "None."

"What?"

That was when they realized what that meant.

"They moved it to the cars," Face said, "Come on!"

"Move it, you too," Murdock stuck the muzzle of his gun into one of the driver's backs as they headed into the graveyard.

B.A. and Hannibal went back and got the van and the car and drove them in at top speed, the noise sent the men in the other three cars scrambling as well, only they were able to get into their cars and speed off. B.A.'s van had beat them to the back entrance gate and the three cars swerved to the side and altered their course for the front gate. Face and Murdock were able to shoot out the tires of two of the cars, leaving only one on its crash course, but they could see Hannibal was ready to block that exit as well.

"What the hell do they think they're doing?" Jean asked. She swung her arms and yelled at the people in the remaining car to slow down before somebody got killed, but they sped past her and made a sharp turn, too sharp, the car became top heavy and turned over.

KABOOM!

It was like watching a miniature atom bomb go off. The car exploded into flames as soon as its roof hit the ground; the whole vehicle was surrounded by fire and the smoke billowed out like a mushroom cloud and poured up into the sky. The victims in the car could be heard screaming like a pack of wild animals, but it was short lived. The windows of the car were too full of black smoke to see much of anything else but after a very short few seconds, the screams died out, but they would live on in the ears and minds of everybody present for the massacre for as long as they lived.

Hannibal came running up from the front gate and B.A. from the back, and nobody could believe what they saw. Face and Murdock were both in shock by the scene of the fiery death trap. Crane couldn't even look at the wreckage, and even Decker looked sickened by what had just happened. Jean couldn't feel the balance in her feet anymore and half sat, half fell down on the ground as she watched in horror. Nobody was able to move for several minutes, could only look on in horror at the burning heap.

A large gust of wind came up and they could hear it howling over the noise of the fire; and it blew so hard that they were able to see something else coming out of the car windows besides the smoke. Little pieces of burnt paper came floating out in droves, some pieces larger than others, some still burning into ash, but some were almost whole, unscathed, Hannibal caught one and saw they were hundred dollar bills. Face felt something touch his cheek and he wiped it off. He felt it again, it was almost like rain. He looked at his hand and saw it was white. Jean also felt something falling on her skin and she wiped it off, and noticed the same white substance on her own hands.

"What is this, ash?" Face asked.

Hannibal felt the substance on his fingers and dabbed it on his tongue. "No."

"A hundred keys of heroin, a million dollars in cash, and four lives," Jean commented, sounding half dead from the shock, looked at the remains of the car that still burnt like hellfire, "All up in smoke."


	11. Chapter 11

Hannibal knew that Decker was going to be thrown out of the frying pan and directly into the fire with this one, and he also knew that each one of them had their own share of involvement in this disaster that they had to answer to. But he was a Colonel first, he was the leader to his team and he wouldn't see them captured for anything; and he knew that General Bullen, or whoever outranked Decker on this job, would not overlook the fact that the A-Team just happened to be in the middle of this tragedy and he would have them brought in in chains just for the frosting on the cake. So, feeling a bit of a heel for leaving Decker and Crane in the lurch, Hannibal got the others rounded up and out of the cemetery before the reinforcements came in, and he knew that they would be coming in in droves, and he was correct.

They had gotten far enough out of sight but stayed close enough that they could see just who was brought in to clean up the mess. Aside from two fire trucks and a pack of firemen fighting to get the flames extinguished before the wind made the conflagration spread like an epidemic, they could see about a dozen cars belonging to members of the military and a couple dozen men in uniforms overseeing the entire scene of the slaughter. Hannibal could tell that Decker was getting his ears pinned back for his part in what was happening, but he knew that it was a situation Decker had been in before, and could get himself out of again. It _was_ a bit odd that there was no difference felt despite the fact that this time there were four dead bodies to accompany the fine mess that somebody had made, but, unfortunately such was the life of a military man. It was a hard fact to face, but those four people in the car were dead almost as quickly as the explosion had occurred, there wasn't anything anybody could do to help them. And in regards to the remaining members of the drug running ring, they had been too shocked by the explosion and the deaths of their partners to even try running off, so that side of the situation was well in hand to be dealt with without their additional presence at the scene.

Hannibal drove them out of the area and it was a quiet ride back to civilization, nobody said what they were thinking, and just as well because tension was already running high; one wrong word from somebody might just prove enough to get World War 3 started between the passengers. B.A. sat up front with Hannibal and Face, Murdock and Jean were piled into the back. Face stared out the window, Murdock looked down at his shoes and Jean was half turned to the other window but wasn't really looking at anything.

Finally, after they'd been driving for about an hour, Face leaned forward and asked Hannibal, "Where're we going?"

The others looked at him as if they too were anticipating the answer. Hannibal kept his eyes on the road ahead and answered simply, "The last place Decker would look for us."

Based on Hannibal's perspective, that turned out to be Decker's own home. Once again they bypassed the security system, went in the front door and made themselves at home. Face dropped on the couch in the living room and was ready to fold himself up like a cockroach and expire, Hannibal crashed on the cushion next to him and wore a similar expression on his face; B.A. sat down in a chair beside the couch, holding himself together slightly better than the other men, and Murdock parked himself on the couch's arm beside Face. Jean was the last one in the room, and nobody looked at her right away but they did notice that while the rest of them were letting out noisy exhalations and grunts and sighs, there wasn't a single sound coming out of the honorary corporal. Face looked over to her and his eyes bugged out when he saw why, and the others quickly followed suit.

Jean stood in the doorway to the living room, her face flushed and turning purple due to the simple fact that she was not breathing. She hadn't sucked air in to hold onto like a swimmer going under water, she had simply willed herself to stop taking in any air, or letting any out. That was why she hadn't made any noise and it made the four men wonder just how long she _had_ been like this. Face and Murdock were the first ones off the couch and in two steps had closed the gap between she and them; Murdock grabbed her by the hands and was trying to get her to talk, but Face went behind her, drew his hand back, and hit Jean between her shoulder blades as hard as he could. His actions had the desired result.

Jean threw her head back and yelled at the top of her lungs, and once the oxygen had worked its way back into her she collapsed in Murdock's arms sobbing and gasping heavily as the breath went in and out of her at a rapid pace; just like a newborn child brought into the world, met immediately with pain to ensure that the breath of life entered its body.

"Murdock," Hannibal said softly, not getting too close to either of them because he didn't want to take a chance of Jean lashing out if she felt crowded in on, "Why don't you take Jean upstairs so she can lie down and rest? We're not going anywhere."

Murdock nodded slowly, "Yeah, sure, Colonel…" he took a step back and pulled Jean along with him, "Come on, Saint." Slowly he managed to get her to follow him out of the living room and out to the front hall.

Getting Jean to follow him up the stairs was like trying to work the strings on a life sized marionette puppet, but with a little effort Murdock managed to get her to the top of the stairs and they rounded the corner to Decker's bedroom. Jean clung to Murdock and continued to cry hysterically and exhaustively; Murdock held her in his arms and let her wear herself out, but she proved to have more endurance for this than he gave her credit for. It reached a point he knew he had to stop her if she was going to get any rest, so, keeping one arm around her, he reached into the pocket on his jacket and took out a bottle of knockout pills Hannibal had gotten for B.A.'s milk. Twisting the cap off with two fingers, he managed to shake out two pills and as gently as he could, shoved them past her lips and into her mouth and forced her to swallow them, promising her that she would feel better soon, Jean didn't protest.

It took a few minutes for the pills to work, but once they did, Jean had zero strength left and so it was very easy for Murdock to push her down onto the bed, which had been left unmade from the night before. She straightened herself out so she was laid straight with her arms high over her head and her feet together. Murdock went around to the foot over the bed and reaching over the footboard, grabbed one foot and untied her shoe, making small talk about her feet needing to breathe like the rest of her skin. When he got both shoes off of her, he grabbed the top sheet that was discarded at the bottom and pulled it up and draped it over Jean and tucked her in as she was already on her way to the blissful world of unconsciousness.

Murdock stood over Jean and watched her for a few minutes, and when he was sure that she was asleep, and wouldn't be getting up anytime soon, he went over to the other side of the bed and climbed in beside her. Even though Jean was unaware of his presence, and even if she didn't want his company right now, _he_ needed the close contact with another person, and she was it, even if she was so doped up out of her mind that she didn't have any idea where she was or what was going on, he needed to be with her, needed to feel that warm breath on his skin, needed to hear that heartbeat in her chest. This had been a trying day for all of them; facing death never got any easier, and having to face someone else's and know you couldn't do anything about it was even worse, regardless of who and what they were. That was why he was always so glad that when they went out on a mission, luck was on their side and they might all get banged and bruised up, but once they were on the job, nobody ever got killed; it made him feel proud to be part of a Team that could accomplish so much good, but for all those times, there were always times like this when it didn't seem to matter.

Nothing ever made man realize his vulnerability like death; and after seeing death, man's only retreat was to surround himself with life and the appreciation of the wonders of life. That was exactly how Murdock felt right now. He cupped his hands on the sides of Jean's head and kissed her on her forehead and quietly spoke to her, as he finally started to feel the burn of tears building up in his own eyes. Like the others, he'd seen his share of dead bodies back in Vietnam, enough that his reactions to them now and the horrible ways they died could be delayed and held off for as long as was necessary; he had reached his own limit of how long he could hold off the inevitable. He put his arms around his wife and held her unconscious body close to him as he cried himself to sleep.

* * *

Hannibal didn't know what had woken him up but he sat up with a start and after a minute he started to remember where he was. He ran his hand over his face and realized that his cheek was wet; he wiped away his own tears as he tried to shut out from his mind, that sight, that noise, that smell of burning flesh, an odor you never forgot and you never got used to, no matter how many times you encountered it over the years. He pulled himself up into a normal sitting position as opposed to how he had fallen asleep with one leg draped over the arm of the couch to compensate for Face taking up the other two thirds of the cushions, and even he'd had to tuck his knees in to fit as he'd fallen asleep earlier.

Hannibal looked at his watch: 2:30 in the afternoon, but for the life of him he couldn't even remember what day this was. He didn't know when he'd fallen asleep, he didn't remember if Face and B.A. had been asleep already or not, his mind was so clouded he could hardly remember anything.

His attention was drawn to a noise he was able to hear through the closed windows, a car door slamming. Ah ha, so Decker was back.

"Face, B.A.," he shook the other men, "Get up."

"W…what is it, Hannibal?" Face asked as he slowly came around.

"We've got company," he told them, "Decker's here."

"So?" B.A. yawned, "Ain't this the man's house?"

"That's not what I mean," Hannibal said.

Face stood up alongside Hannibal as they heard the front door open, and a few seconds later they saw Decker come in, and he froze when he saw them.

"Well, what'd you find out?" Hannibal asked.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming back here, Smith," Decker told him.

"I know," he replied coyly, "Just one of those little personality defects I can't seem to do anything about."

Decker looked around the room and realized they were two people short, "Where're Murdock and _that woman_?"

"Upstairs," Hannibal answered, and just as Decker spun on his heel he added, "And I'm giving you advanced warning, Decker."

That stopped him, he turned back to Hannibal and asked, "Warning about what?"

Hannibal took a cigar out of his pocket and bit down on it, "They're asleep, and if you go up there and wake that girl up before she's ready, I'm going to shoot you." There was much gravity in his tone as he added, "She's a very sick woman."

Decker snorted and replied, "You just figure that out?"

"Quite the opposite," Hannibal told him, "I've known since the beginning. From the first time we saw that kid, she's always been about two steps away from the edge of her sanity, _because_ of situations like this. This isn't a first for her either, Decker, but there's more to risk with her losing her mind than any of us." He replayed the early morning's events and shook his head, he could easily see this leading to Jean plummeting off that ledge entirely. They'd had 10 years to get accommodated to Murdock's insane act and for the most part it took very little work; the man was harmless at best and at his worst he could only become annoying, he never got violent as a result of the trauma he'd endured, but Jean…Hannibal didn't want to think about that one. He turned back to Decker and repeated, "What did you find out?"

Decker looked like he had a migraine that could kill an elephant, and after the day he'd had he probably did. "They salvaged what was left of the car to check it…they found something on the bottom, as strong as the explosion was the shell of the bomb remained almost entirely intact."

"Talk about your stiff competition," Face said, "Exactly _how_ are we going to find the people responsible for that one?"

"We'll have to figure that one out _after_ we take out this phony Decker," Hannibal told him.

"So now what?" Face asked.

"Everything has been shut down," Decker told them, "What was left of the money and the heroin in the other two cars has been confiscated and all the drivers were taken into custody, I sure as hell hope you were able to get something out of them before because we're sure as hell not going to have any access to them now."

Hannibal smirked and commented, "Kind of sucks being down in the middle rung of the totem pole, eh, Decker? Welcome to our world."

"Well," Face interjected, "We _were_ able to get a location out of those nitwits before the Generals showed up." He took a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and said, "Apparently the guy who's passing himself off as you is operating things on his end out near the state line."

"And since he has to be finding out soon about the large hole blown into his plan," Hannibal said, "The sooner we can find him before he has a chance to destroy everything and clear out, the better."

"That mean we're flying, Colonel?" they heard Murdock ask.

They went to the hall and saw Murdock coming down the stairs hand in hand with Jean, who still looked out of it and was appearing to have some difficulty telling just how far apart the stairs were as she stepped down.

"It would get us there the quickest," Hannibal agreed.

"Hey Hannibal, you know I ain't flying," B.A. told him.

"Who said anything about you?" Face asked, "_We_ can go on ahead and beat him to the punch, and you can follow in the van, that way you can keep an eye out for any additional traffic making its trek across the state."

"You're _not_ going to get that helicopter back," Decker told them.

"They're not _getting_ a helicopter, Decker," Jean replied cynically, "They _built_ a helicopter, they've been waiting around this place for two hours for you to get back so they just built a helicopter while they were waiting."

"Very funny," he sneered in response.

"Well you know we could do it," Hannibal said, "However we're pressed for time so we'll have to settle for one that's already put together."

"That's fine," Face said, "There are other means to get a chopper, and I know most of them."

"And I'll go with Murdock," Jean added, "Might come in handy to have two pilots available."

Decker snorted and remarked, "If you're at the controls, you're all going to die, so I suggest you go right on ahead with that plan."

"Oh yeah?" Jean got in his face, "I'll do that, Decker, and I'll have you strapped in right alongside me for when we all crash."

Decker appeared to stand as still as stone, nobody saw him draw his hand back, only saw as he backhanded Jean across the face as hard as he could. She fell back but quickly regained her balance and she lunged at Decker, now it was his turn to fail to see how fast she moved; he didn't know he'd even been hit until he felt his head get knocked back against the wall and he felt her hands gripping his throat.

"Jean, get off of him!" Hannibal ordered as he grabbed her by the shoulders. But her anger gave her more strength than he had at the moment, so B.A. helped him pull her off. "Get off of him, Jean!" he commanded as, between the two of them they managed to jerk her back and break her grip on Decker's throat.

Jean was on the verge of hyperventilating as she found herself lifted off the ground and locked in B.A.'s iron grip; her arms were outstretched and she was still reaching for Decker, who upon regaining his ability to breathe, backed up along the wall to put distance between the two of them. B.A. put Jean down and she told Hannibal, "This guy's had it in for me because I've been in this with you guys and made him look like the jackass that he is over the last few months. He'd just love to see me pushing up daisies if he had the chance."

"That might be," Hannibal told her, "But we're dealing with something _far_ bigger than any of us put together, and if we're going to stop it then we have to _stop_ fighting with each other first. Our own petty differences are going to have to wait until another time."

Jean looked put out by this announcement but she grumbled out a reluctant agreement to go along with it.

"Now, we'll get a chopper, Face, you, Jean and Murdock take it, B.A. and I'll follow in the van, and Decker and Crane will follow us."

"Are you insane, Smith?" Decker asked him.

"No," Hannibal answered, "That's Murdock's racket."

"And I do it very well, see?" Murdock asked with a hint of Edward G. Robinson in his voice.

"Alright everybody," Hannibal told them as he pointed to the door, "Let's move out."

* * *

"Face, I think that guy you got the location from took you for a sucker," Jean said as they looked down at their final destination from their bird's eye view in the chopper, "There's nothing around here, just miles and miles of desert."

"Funny," Face commented, "I'd think given the gravity of the situation in that four of his partners had just been blown into charred barbecue, that he would've been straight with us."

"Yeah well, shows what you get for thinking, don't it?" she replied.

"Children, children, _please_," Murdock said in a nasal tone, "Now we have to be _near_ the place," he was flying low enough that he could show them, "Look at all those tire tracks in the dirt down there."

"It means _somebody_'s been out here," Jean agreed, "Not necessarily the people we're looking for."

"No, but I'm sure by following that, we should find the final destination either way," Murdock told her.

"Some destination, I don't see _anything_ up ahead," Jean noted, "I hope Hannibal and B.A. are having better luck finding something on the ground."

"If they do, we ought to hear about it soon," Face said.

"I still don't like it," Jean told Murdock, "Us working with Decker," she shook her head, "It's too easy for something to go wrong."

"That's why Hannibal's loving every minute of this, you can be sure," Face remarked.

"I see something!" Murdock pointed down below.

They tried to see what he saw and they about missed it completely.

"Looks like a shack," Jean said.

"Well somebody must be using it for something," Face said as he peered out the window, "Because I'm seeing about 20 cars and trucks parked around the place."

"Well it's all we've found so far," Murdock got on the radio and gave Hannibal their current location as best as he could, and they waited for a response from the men on the ground.

"Alright, Murdock, we ought to be there soon, how much ground can you cover in 15 minutes?"

"Is that a challenge, Colonel?" Murdock asked.

"No."

"Oh…about 35 miles."

"Never mind," Hannibal replied, "Check past it about ten miles to make sure you haven't missed anything, and then double back around, it doesn't sound like you've got anything to cover your landing so you'll just have to announce your arrival."

"Well you know what they say," Jean said once she took the radio from Murdock and glanced down at the scenery below, "When you want to make your point, say it with bullets."

"Right," Hannibal said.

"You got it, Colonel."

Jean was looking through the windshield down at the ground below, and not seeing anything worth noticing, when she heard a strange sound coming from somewhere in the cockpit. Face heard it too and they both looked to Murdock, it sounded like he'd smuggled a small radio onboard with them and had turned it on, but they realized that the static sounds were coming from the pilot's own throat, replaced shortly afterwards with him humming something from the Rolling Stones and bobbing his head in time with the song. Jean turned and glanced over at Face, as if he might have the answer, and he just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders in response.

"Murdock," she said, her voice raised to be heard over his humming. It worked and he turned and looked at her curiously and she asked him, "You okay?"

"Sure," he answered without a beat, "Hey Saint, do you know the words to 'Paint it Black'?"

Her eyes widened and for some reason she avoided answering it directly, responding only with, "I know 'Mother's Little Helper'."

"Oh that'll do," he replied.

Face didn't say anything and just scratched his head and thought back; Murdock had always been a big music person and sometimes he got stuck in certain phases that could last a day, or a week, maybe a month, and in the process manage to drive one or more of all of them nuts in the meantime. And there _was_ one such period where he got hung up on the Rolling Stones, where every time they got a plane scammed, right after takeoff he'd start singing something or other until everybody else on the plane was ready to be knocked out like B.A. just to get away from it. For some reason Murdock found it calming to sing while flying, but ironically it had the opposite effect on his passengers. And then one day he'd just stopped it, moved onto something else and forgotten about the Rolling Stones entirely, from that day to this he hadn't heard one note of their music from the pilot's lips, and now it seemed to be starting again. He tried to figure out what it meant and he was coming up empty.

Another thought hit Face, it wasn't just while Murdock flew that he sang, it had also been numerous times when he went into the V.A. to spring him; and he couldn't count how many times he'd walked into Murdock's room to find him at one of his arcade games with his Walkman on half singing half screaming the Stones. He never was able to figure out what the connection was or even if there was one or if it was just Murdock's latest fascination/borderline obsession. They were all usually short lived so he never gave it much thought, but on the other hand they never came back either. Once Murdock was done with something he was _done_. Well, it could just be coincidence he decided, it _had_ been a long time since they'd had to put up with Howling Mad's rendition of Mick Jagger. But he didn't know, there was something about it that didn't set well with him, and he tried to figure out why this was.

And he remembered finally. Back when Hannibal was in the hospital and they were going stir crazy in his room, Murdock had suggested making ink blots to keep themselves entertained. Murdock usually had nothing to do with ink blots after all the tests he was forced to take, but making his own, that was something else; but again it had only been at the V.A., he _never_ did it when he was out on leave with the others, so why now? Murdock had been out of the V.A., officially, permanently discharged, for about three months now, surely he couldn't be…no, that couldn't be it. Over the past 10 years there had been much debate over whether Murdock was really crazy, and none of them had been too definite one way or the other. For the most part, Face believed what they all seemed to believe, that most of it was just an act, sure on one hand it had been a good cover for Murdock to keep him safe, but on the other hand it had taken him almost no time at all to wrap the whole staff around his finger and use his crazy act to get anything he wanted on top of the free room and board. But why was he acting _now_ like he was back at the V.A.? That was the part that didn't make any sense to him.

"Here they come!" Murdock broke off in mid-song when he saw the van driving up down below.

"Well, here goes nothing," Jean said as she picked up the rifle at her side.

Murdock got them landed to coincide perfectly with the van and Decker's car pulling up outside the shack, which now that they were on the ground they were able to see was a bar of about regular size, apparently open for business, despite the fact that it looked ready to cave in.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Jean asked Face.

"Only one way to find out," he answered.

"Wait a minute," Hannibal told them, "You leave your guns out here, you go in first and if it looks like trouble, then we'll come in. There is a chance that somebody's pulling our legs and it's a legit business, and if that's the case we don't want to start any unnecessary trouble."

"Maybe but seeing as how there's nobody else to be found within 20 miles of this place," Jean said, "I doubt it."

"Well let's go check it out," Murdock told her.

Face looked to Hannibal and said before he followed them, "Hannibal, if anything happens to me in there, I swear I'm going to come back from the grave and haunt you for the rest of your life."

Hannibal just smirked in response and said, "Good to know, Face, now get going."

Face grumbled but he followed Murdock and Jean inside. Their eyes were looking every which way for any sign that something was amiss but on the surface everything looked normal. The place was badly lit, there was awful music coming from a jukebox in the corner, the air was filled with smoke from people's cigarettes and there were about 30 people drinking and talking and drunkenly laughing.

"What do you think?" Face murmured to Murdock.

"If anybody's here that we want," he answered, "They're probably in the back."

"I'll take a look," Jean said, "If anything goes wrong, you'll know. You guys keep an eye on the door, make sure nobody's blocking our exit."

She disappeared down a narrow corridor and Murdock watched it to make sure nobody blocked _her_ exit either, while Face kept an eye on their own present company. Nobody seemed out of place, just a bunch of half lit barflies who were completely oblivious to the newcomers.

"I hate to think that we got taken for a ride on this one," he murmured to Murdock.

"We ought to find out soon enough," Murdock responded.

"_Something's_ got to be going on around here," Face said, "Why else would people drive all the way out here just to get the same cheap booze and listen to the same awful music you can get anywhere else?"

He felt a draft behind him and turned and saw it was caused by a blonde woman in a red sparkle dress walking past him. She smiled at him and he was starting to get an idea _why_ they would make the trip, if she was any indicator of the services around there.

"I think you just answered your own question, muchacho," Murdock said.

Face was about to follow the woman and strike up a generic small talk conversation that he was accustomed to using with everybody he worked his con charm magic on, when Jean returned from the back and she shook her head, "Didn't see anyone back there."

"See _anything_?" Murdock asked.

"Well the manager's office is back there but it's locked," she said, and she stopped, and froze.

"What's wrong?" Face asked.

Jean didn't answer and just dug her hand and more specifically her nails into Murdock's thigh; he managed not to scream but he had his teeth gritted and was growling like a cat about to claw another one's eyes out. He grabbed her hand and pried it off his leg and asked her, "What's the matter?"

"Oh my God," Jean said slowly, as if in shock, and she pointed, "It's her!"

"Who?" Face asked.

Jean pointed to the woman in the red dress at the bar and said, "That's the power hungry bimbo from the cabin that tried to kill me."

"Are you sure?" Face asked her.

"I told you I'd know her anywhere," she said, and took a step towards the bar.

Murdock grabbed her by the back of her shirt and yanked her back and asked her, "What're you going to do?"

Jean managed a straight face as she replied innocently, "I'm gonna go over and have a little fun."

They both grabbed her and pulled her back before she had a chance to do anything.

"If _she's_ here," Face said, "Then the others might not be too far off."

"Well that's fine," Jean told him, "You can call Hannibal in if you want, but I know that none of you are going to clean _her_ clock so I'm going to take care of that job myself."

"Jean!" Murdock called after her as she hotfooted it over to the bar.

Face ran over to the front door and called out, "Hannibal you better get in here, I have an idea it's about to get ugly."

And he was right. When he turned back around he saw six big goons come out from the back, presumably from the locked office Jean hadn't been able to get into. Two of the men had guns and the others just looked like they were going to rely on whatever objects were on hand to pulverize them.

The front door was busted in and B.A. jumped in with a gun in hand and said automatically, "Freeze, suckers!"

Hannibal had managed to slip in behind B.A. without being seen and showed himself to their guests as well; Decker and Crane also walked in with guns drawn, as if they were just daring somebody to make a wrong move. However the warning went unheeded, one of the men in the bar opened fire and everybody ducked for cover. His aim was off though and so he only succeeded at aerating the wall behind them, though a few shots came close to hitting them. It became obvious that there were too many innocent bystanders in the way so B.A. and Hannibal dropped their guns and jumped into an all-out brawl with the other men.

Murdock kicked his foot under a chair and knocked it back, he grabbed it by the back and swung it over his head and broke it over the head of the man nearest him. Face punched another man in the jaw and sent him falling back over one of the tables. By this time a lot of the barflies had joined in the fight, and it seemed not because they were drunk and willing to go along with anything, but because a lot of them were very familiar with the six muscle men who were getting their brains knocked out and sided with them. Crane saw one man bending over for a gun that was dropped on the floor and he kicked the man in the face and knocked him back; Decker grabbed another bar patron who had pulled out a switchblade and put him in the sleeper hold.

One man got a lucky shot in with Hannibal and knocked him against the wall; Hannibal could taste the blood in his mouth and it made him develop a little mean streak. He took out his lighter and set the sleeve on the man's jacket on fire, the man scrambled and threw his jacket on the bar counter, and it gave Jean an idea. She jumped behind the bar and started grabbing bottles off the shelf, quickly glancing at the labels, and picking the highest proof pieces she could find, broke the tops off the bottles and tossed them onto the jacket, creating a conflagration tall enough the flames practically touched the ceiling.

B.A. had managed to take out nearly a dozen men and left them on the floor stacked against one another like a row of dominoes; but no matter how many people anybody was able to knock down, there seemed to be three more to take their places everywhere they turned. Even now with the fire growing larger by the second and threatening to consume all of them, few people had actually shown the brains to leave the bar or even attempt to, and it looked like the fight would continue until they were all burnt to a crisp.

Jean turned and saw a man in uniform and for a brief second thought that Decker had taken this opportunity to resume his old ways and take up a fight with the members of the A-Team; then she realized the man about to beat Face's brains out wasn't Decker and she lunged at him, grabbed him by the arm and jerked him back and off balance, causing the man to fall back against the rack of bottles on the wall. Jean upped the ante by grabbing the man by the lapels of his jacket and shoving him into the menagerie of wine, his head making an audible CRACK as it made contact with some of the bottles. She heard somebody yell to watch out and she turned around and saw another man in uniform swinging at her; she ducked the blow and jumped up, grabbed a handful of the man's curly hair, with the other hand grabbed him by the jacket and rammed him against the wall. Then another idea came to her and she grabbed one bottle off the wall that was still intact. It was a cheap champagne, she twisted the top off and poured as much of it into her mouth as she could store without swallowing. Then she went over to the nearest man who was giving their side trouble and she spat the champagne into his eyes. Blinding him for a second gave Face the chance to KO the man.

Murdock had found a fire extinguisher behind the bar and first used it to put out part of the fire since it was obvious nobody was smart enough to flee from the flames, and then he got another idea and used it to spray the people they were fighting with. The sudden blast of cold took them by surprise and made it easier to knock them out while their guards were down. Then he hoisted the extinguisher over his head and used it to brain another man with. He leapfrogged over that man and punched another in the face, unable to resist asking the poor sap, since he was in a mood, "How did the old ladies turn into Russians?"

Jean came up beside him and reached over towards his waist and said, "Excuse me, Murdock, I need to borrow this for a minute," and grabbed his belt.

Murdock got jerked to the side when she pulled on it but in one quick move she had it unbuckled and jerked out of the loops; he looked to see what she was doing and saw her rush head-on into a scuffle with three other guys. She had the belt slung over her shoulder like a bullwhip and when one man moved in close enough, she swung it, with both ends still in her hand, slipped the loop of the belt around the man's neck, and with hands quicker than the eye, slipped the end of the belt in through its buckle and pulled, constraining it against the man's neck. The man's eyes bulged out and his hands grabbed at the belt and tried to loosen it. Jean just smirked sinisterly at him and said, "Get away from me, boy, you bother me." And she lifted her foot up, planted it against the man's stomach, and with one good jerk, undid the belt and sent him falling back, and he fell against Decker and both men were knocked down.

"This is getting to be fun," Jean smirked.

"Well don't get used to it," Hannibal told her, "We're getting out of here." Through the window he could see blue and red lights starting to come their way.

"No wait, not yet," Jean broke away from him and went over to the woman, who during all this time had been watching amusedly from one of the safer corners of the bar.

Jean tapped the woman on the shoulder and when she turned around, Jean punched her in the face, and when the woman stumbled back, Jean grabbed a handful of the red material of the dress and ripped it clear off. The right side of the dress crumbled and fell halfway down the woman's stomach, exposing the white slip she wore underneath.

"Now _that's_ how you do that," Jean told the woman as she drop kicked her.

The woman let out a yelp of pain as she hit the floor, and was outright screaming when Jean grabbed her arm and twisted it to dislocate it. All of a sudden Jean felt something grabbing her and pulling her back, and realized it was Hannibal.

"That's enough, kid!" Hannibal told her as he jerked her back, "Let's go."

Murdock came over to them and he told Hannibal, "You guys take Decker's car, they won't stop it, we'll get the van and we'll follow."

There wasn't any time to ask if Murdock was sure about his idea, the men exited through a side door B.A. made by tossing a table through the window and kicking out the piece of wall beneath it. It was a tight squeeze but the five men managed to fit in the car and get the hell out of there just as the police cars pulled up. Face craned his neck around to see through the back window what he couldn't through the side or rear view mirrors, the van was following behind and looked like it could catch up with them soon.

"They got out!" he said with a big sigh of relief.

"Good," Hannibal replied.

"So now what do we do, Hannibal?" B.A. asked.

Static came through on the car radio and they heard Murdock suggest, "How about if we get out of Dodge and into a place for lunch? I'm hungry."

"Sounds like a good idea, Murdock," Hannibal replied, "Follow us."

* * *

Half an hour later, Hannibal figured they'd gotten far enough away that they didn't have to worry about the authorities catching up with them and they pulled up outside of a small diner, Murdock pulled the van up behind the car and everybody piled out. As they joined up again to make sure everybody was alright, Face looked over at Murdock and noticed that there was something different about the man, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. And then a moment later it hit him what was different about Murdock, and he slapped his forehead for not figuring it out immediately. He reached over and poked Hannibal repeatedly in the shoulder to get the Colonel's attention, and it worked, and in the process managed to annoy him.

"What is it, Face?" he wanted to know.

Face pointed over to Murdock and asked Hannibal, "Do you see what I see?"

Hannibal looked, and he didn't say anything but Face did notice the colonel's eyes become enlarged when he saw it too.

Murdock casually walked alongside Jean, making small talk with her as they headed for the diner, and slung over his left shoulder, clutched in his hand was a brown leather purse.

"Uh…Murdock," Hannibal spoke up as he caught up with the captain, "Murdock…"

"Yeah, Hannibal?" Murdock turned around to see the colonel, letting go of the purse and instead holding onto the strap up by his shoulder.

"Uh…" Hannibal tried to think how to approach this one, "Murdock, has something happened that we ought to know about?"

Murdock looked at both men curiously and said, "I don't think so, why?"

Face couldn't take it anymore and he spat out, "Why're you carrying a woman's purse?" Then the next question hit him, "Where did you get it?" he pointed to Jean and said, "You didn't have one with you, did you?"

"Hell no, you know I don't have a purse," Jean told him, but he noted she didn't sound surprised at Murdock's lugging it around.

"Well then?" Hannibal asked.

"It's hers," Jean said, "The reason we didn't get out when you did is I went back to the office, figuring since the door was left open I could find _something_ of use to us…her purse was on the floor by the desk, I grabbed it up and a few files that were left out on the desk and sticking out of the filing cabinet. I figured if nothing else I can find out who in the hell that woman is so we have _something_ to go on."

"And did you?" Hannibal asked.

"Well…a lot of the papers are Greek to me, I figured maybe Face could find out what they mean."

"Do I look Greek?" he asked teasingly.

"You're about two steps away from looking like a lawn jockey," Jean told him, "That's beside the point. Anyway, I _did_ find her driver's license in the bottom…her name is Jocelyn Watkins, assuming that's her _real_ name. There wasn't anything in there to suggest that she's ever spent one day enlisted in anything related to the military, so we were both right, she's not only an amateur, she's an imposter as well."

Face took the files from her and glanced over them and said, "After we eat I'll see if anything here comes out as English."

"Sounds like a plan," Hannibal remarked.

* * *

What Face found was that somebody had been keeping a close eye on the competition; all the files that Jean had taken out of the office were on men from the Air Force who according to the current records he was glancing over, had been marked for death and some had already been carried out.

"It's just like any old drug war," he said, "Each side trying to kill as many members of the other side before somebody can get them first."

"And the beat goes on," Murdock said.

"Maybe it's just me," Face said to the others, "But you'd think with the army being involved that you could expect something a little different."

"Why should it start now?" Jean replied, and turned to glare at Decker as she said, "They're very good at what they do which is nothing good for anybody but themselves."

"Keep it up, Rhodes," Decker said to her warningly, "And I'm going to forget my position and lay you out."

"Go ahead and try, Decker," she replied, "I have no position, and I'll do you quicker than you could me." She squinted her eyes and showed her teeth in a shark smile as she said, "Do you think because you wear a uniform that I have any respect for you? I belong to no group, no branch of anything, I owe my loyalty to no one, _especially_ not some pile of sludge just because he's got his stripes."

She was close enough to Decker that she swore she could hear him growling, and she saw his hands start to clench up like he was about to strangle her. Crane cleared his throat and it seemed to knock some sense into Decker and he rested his arms at his sides and backed away from her. Hannibal had taken the liberty to bring the other captain up to date on what had happened, including Decker's little run in with the raw fury that had come out of Jean when Decker hit her. Crane swore he wasn't here as Decker's second in command, more often than not he was merely along for the ride as the colonel's babysitter to keep him from getting his head _too_ far in the lion's mouth. He'd had his own brush with death with this woman, he didn't know for fact that she had the killer instinct, but he didn't believe in pressing his luck. It seemed to him that they'd already pressed it clear through the wall with their current situation of actually working on the same side as the A-Team, hell must've frozen over after all.

"So what're we going to do now, Hannibal?" Face asked.

Hannibal looked over the papers and scratched his head while he thought about it. "I don't know who started this whole mess, or when, or why…it's obvious that each side has much to answer for but I don't like the idea of anymore of this hit list being carried out, so we've got to find a way to reach some of _these_ guys while they're still alive. After that explosion today, I'm not too eager to see what the army's retaliation's going to be."

Murdock went over to Hannibal and said, "If we _can_ find them, maybe it would be a good idea if _I_ went in and talked to them, after all it's Air Force, it's more _my_ people than yours, Colonel."

Hannibal considered the thought but it was obvious he wasn't too hot on the idea. "The only thing you have in common with these people, Murdock, is that you all fly."

Murdock shrugged and replied, "Maybe that's all we need…what if…" he snapped his fingers and said, "I've got it, I've got it, Hannibal."

"Well we're all ears," Face said, "What is it?"

"We find out where these guys are currently stationed, we get a tap on their line, we find out who's who and what's what and where it all is, and I come in as a new guy, just transferred in."

"It might work, but I don't know, Murdock," Face told him, "You could be walking in there handing them your head on a platter."

"What if somebody went in with him?" Jean asked, "That would improve his odds of getting out alive, wouldn't it?"

"Who?" Face asked.

"Who? Me!" Jean pointed at herself, "I'm the only other person in this whole lot of knuckleheads who knows anything about flying, and we wouldn't have to keep the cover up for long."

"That would never work," Face told her.

"Oh I don't know," Hannibal replied, "After all, we already know she can fool Decker, and he'd already seen her…it _might_ work. In any case we'd only need them to buy a few minutes at best, we'd be right behind them the whole way."

"Them too?" Jean pointed at Crane and Decker.

"Yes," Hannibal answered.

"That's it," she told Murdock, "It's a _bad_ idea, abort immediately."

Hannibal chuckled but he could hardly be heard over the wind picking up and the sound of the files in his hand flipping back and forth rapidly in the breeze. Face looked up and realized that the sky had suddenly turned dark, and he felt a chill as the wind suddenly became cold. Hannibal turned to him and asked, "Did you check the weather forecast for today?"

"No," Face answered.

Murdock looked up at the black clouds that were quickly filling the sky as if trying to see the answer in them. Hannibal shook his head and said, "If that's going to do what I _think_ it's going to do, _nobody's_ going to be flying in that. I think we bought ourselves a little time."

"I don't know," Face told Hannibal as a particularly strong gust of wind blew through him and chilled him clear through, "If that wind gets any stronger it'll take the lines down, you can forget about a tap."

"Then we've all bought ourselves a stay of execution," Jean said, "The question is what do we do now?"

Face noticed Hannibal was staring at him intently, but he knew better than to ask what Hannibal was thinking because Hannibal asked him without any prompting, "Well Lieutenant, think you can get us two hotel rooms for seven people?"

"What?" the others asked.

"Aw Hannibal," B.A. said with a shake of his head, the first thing that he'd said in several hours, and what he lacked in quantity of conversation he made up for in cutting straight to the point, "What' going through your crazy mind now?"


	12. Chapter 12

Author's note: It has been brought to my attention that Lance LeGault, who played Colonel Decker in "The A-Team" has passed away recently. This chapter is dedicated to one of the greatest pursuers the A-Team gave chase to at every turn. R.I.P Colonel Roderick Decker, we trust he has resumed his neverending chase after Hannibal Smith in the great beyond.

En route to a hotel to stay for the night and the remainder of the storm, Decker and Crane had been forced to give up their military uniforms for some civilian clothes as to avoid drawing any further unwanted attention to themselves or anybody else. It wasn't until they'd stopped in the parking lot that everybody was able to get a look at the final results, and when they did everybody was having trouble keeping a straight face. Crane didn't appear too out of place in a spare set of Hannibal's clothes but Decker out of his uniform looked as comfortable and in place as a fish taken out of water and put in a leisure suit. And it was obvious from the look on his face that he felt about the same way as well.

Face had managed to get them two rooms and he, Murdock and Jean took one, and Hannibal and B.A. took the other with Decker and Crane to make sure that neither one of them had any chance to try anything funny. As an extra precaution, Face had made sure to get rooms right next to each other so they could keep an ear to the wall and know what was going on in there at all times.

"I still don't like this," Jean told them.

"Well, that's your opinion and you're entitled to it," Face told her in response, "But that's all the further you'll get with it."

"I don't care, I still don't trust them," she said as she sat on the edge of one of the beds.

"Then that makes us all even," Murdock replied.

"How do we know that Decker hasn't set a trap and is going to have a convoy of MPs here at a moment's notice?" she asked.

"When would he have had the chance?" Face asked.

"What about before he came back to the house?" she thought, "What if he planted a bug on that car so they could trace it here?"

"Well if that's the case," Face told her, his tone a bit apprehensive as he hadn't considered that possibility, "Then you have my full permission to toss him out the window."

"I'll do it too, you know that," Jean said.

Outside they could hear the storm raging on. The wind blew so hard that everybody absently moved further away from the windows as if they might cave in with the next gust. Jean scooted up to the head of the queen sized bed and looked down at the bedspread through the gap between her bent knees. Murdock thought she looked about asleep; he sat down on the edge beside her and brushed his fingers against her cheek, but she smacked his hand away and told him as she scooted over to the other side of the bed, "Don't touch me."

Face glanced questioningly at the pilot to see if he had any idea what that was about, but it was obvious from the equally confused look on Murdock's face that he was just as clueless. Face pointed to his own bed, without saying anything he made the suggestion that maybe Murdock would be better off bunking with him for the night, and Murdock nodded his head in agreement.

"What do you think?" Face murmured to him when Jean went into the bathroom to change.

"After the day we've all had?" Murdock asked, "I'm surprised we didn't all join hands and walk head on into a moving propeller, so…" he pointed to the door and said, "This is nothing, just leave her alone for a while."

"Huh," Face snorted, "Now you're _really_ sounding like you're married."

* * *

Jean shot up in bed with a yelp at the sudden noise that awoke her; from the other side of the room she could hear Face was up as well, and he was a bit more coherent so it seemed he had been up a few seconds longer than she was. The room, which had been pitch dark when they went to sleep, was illuminated now by a pale light, that Jean realized was coming from the television set. Jean rubbed her eyes so she could see clearly and she could tell that an old, black and white western program was on. The second thing Jean saw was that Murdock was half sitting, half jumping, on the foot of the other bed, imitating the man on TV who was riding his horse up to a stagecoach and leapt off of his horse and onto the coach. Murdock turned around as if just now realizing the others were awake and said casually, "Oh hi, guys!"

"Murdock," Jean shielded her eyes with her hand against the bright light as she tried to sit up, "Murdock, what's going on?"

Murdock pointed at the TV screen and said, as if it was answer enough, "The Range Rider's on."

"The what?" Jean asked. She reached over to the bedside table and picked up the clock and groaned, "Murdock, it's 3 o' clock in the morning!"

"I know," he said a bit hesitantly, "That's when it's on."

Amidst his own haze of fatigue, Face was also able to put together what was going on, and it only worked to reinforce his previous concerns about Murdock. Once again, he was acting like he was back at the V.A., this was exactly what he'd found the man doing when he broke him out for their job in Arizona with Daniel Running Bear. Only this time Murdock didn't have his cardboard mask and his plastic six shooters…at least Face hoped he didn't.

"Murdock," he tiredly grumbled, "We've got to get you a VCR."

"Face," Jean groaned as she rolled onto her side to see him instead of the blinding light.

"What?" he asked.

Jean jerked her thumb back and gestured for him to switch places with her. He doubted it would do much good but he kicked back the covers on his side of the bed and went over to hers, and she went over and slipped into the one he'd been sharing with Murdock. She reached forward, grabbed Murdock and pulled him back and knocked him against the pillows and told him, "Now be quiet."

"Don't you want to see this, Saint?" Murdock asked.

"Yeah I'll watch it, just don't make any noise," Jean tiredly grumbled as she laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes.

Despite this though, Murdock couldn't resist telling her all about the show and the character of the Range Rider and all of his brilliant personality traits, and this went on for about ten minutes before Jean looked up at him and said, "Murdock…"

"I'll be quiet now," he said, raising his hand in half of a surrender gesture.

"Murdock," she repeated quietly.

"Yes?" he leaned down to hear her better.

Jean kissed him and said, "Thanks."

"For what?" he asked.

"For earlier," she said, "For everything I guess…"

Murdock grabbed her tight and kissed the top of her head and replied, "Don't mention it, hon."

"Just promise me something," Jean said.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Promise me when this is done," she said, "We're going to get the hell out of here and have a little fun before it's all over."

"You got it, sweetheart," Murdock told her.

Face watched this from where he lay in his own bed, and then rolled over and tried to get some sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Face and Jean got up early and dressed, but Murdock was content to stay buried under the covers. They let him sleep in a little while and then Jean went over to the bed and started whacking the lump under the sheets, trying to get a rise out of him. For the most part the lump didn't move, and when she swatted it again, the lump started growling.

"Come on, Murdock, it's time to get up," Jean said as she shook the lump and smacked him where she figured his hind end ought to be, and the growling just grew louder, quickly progressing from dog to werewolf.

"Jean, you better get away from there," Face told her, "He might bite."

"That's fine with me," she said as she moved back, "I'm a firm believer in biting back."

Face went over to the bed and carefully pulled the covers up and stuck his head under them to see Murdock. Under the covers the two had a muffled conversation and Jean waited to see what would happen next. Apparently Face said something that Murdock didn't agree with because the growling resumed, and Face reached into his pocket and pulled something out and practically crawled in with Murdock, a minute later Jean saw why. Face emerged from under the covers and pulled Murdock out with him, showing that the pilot had been gagged with a handkerchief as a makeshift muzzle.

"So what is it?" Jean asked as she went over to the bed, "I mean did Benji get rabies, or is this just one of the hell hounds?"

Murdock growled at the comment and managed to nip Jean on her wrist, she responded by grabbing his hand and biting it with full teeth but half full force. Murdock yelped and seemed to come around to his semi-normal self again. Face took out the gag and asked, "Well, Murdock?"

Murdock avoided answering Face's question and instead said for an answer, pointing to Jean, "Don't ever let her out when the mailman comes."

"Mailman nothing," she said, "I'll bet you Decker's _still_ got a scar on his leg from when I bit him."

"When did you do that?" Face asked.

"Oh that was back when…never mind," Jean said.

"Sheesh, you bite the guy, no wonder he hates your guts," Face told her.

"Well what's your excuse then?" she replied.

* * *

"I don't know, Hannibal," Face said later that morning when he managed to get a minute alone with the colonel to discuss their situation with Murdock, "I'm worried about him."

Hannibal on the other hand was unfazed. He fumbled with his lighter and managed to get a flame out of it to light his cigar on while he held it between his teeth, and over it he said, "Oh come on, Face, it's still Murdock, he's not doing anything now that he hasn't before."

"That's exactly my point, Hannibal," Face said, "He's been released from the V.A. for three months now and in all the time he hasn't done any of this stuff, now all of a sudden he's back to making dirty ink blots, and getting up at 3 A.M. to watch the Range Rider and pretending he's a dog, I don't get it."

Hannibal grunted as he seemed to think about it for a minute, and said, "It could just be a phase he's going through."

"Isn't he a little old for that?" Face asked.

Hannibal about choked on his cigar and replied, "Are we talking about the same person here?"

"Well it just doesn't make any sense," Face told him, "Why would Murdock start doing all the things he did back at the V.A. when he was trying to get out?"

"Well," Hannibal thought about it, "You have to remember he was in the hospital for over 10 years, 3 months outside in comparison still leaves a lot of room for adjustment, it could be he's reverting back to what he knows because it's the most familiar for him. But I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

The door opened and Jean stepped in, "What's the holdup?"

"No holdup, we're coming," Hannibal told her.

"So," Jean went over towards him, "How did it go bunking with Frick and Frack last night?"

"Did you hear anything?" Hannibal asked.

"No."

He shrugged innocently and said, "Uneventful, they stayed in their bed, we stayed in our bed and that was that."

"You and B.A.?" Jean asked, "Ouch."

Hannibal laughed and told her, "Oh it's not so bad, so long as he doesn't roll over in his sleep."

"Exactly why that guy will never be married," Jean said, "He'd do that one time and he'd smother her to death. So," she sucked in a breath and stood straight as she addressed Hannibal, "What's the plan, Colonel?"

Hannibal chuckled and told her, "I'll get you trained yet. Where's Murdock?"

"Trying to get his throat cleared, I think he's coming down with a cold," Jean answered, "He had this _horrible_ cough earlier."

Face turned back to Hannibal and looked at him knowingly, "Let me guess…"

"If Decker asks, I told him to say it's TB," Jean said.

Face snapped his fingers and said, "That's it! That's the secret password."

"What's he talking about?" Jean asked Hannibal.

"Never mind," Hannibal said, he turned to Face and said, "We'll take care of the tap but in the meantime we need you to get Jean a replacement uniform."

"For what?" Face asked.

"I did some checking and found a bar close by that a lot of these guys we're looking for frequent."

"In uniform? What, the Air Force turning into the Hells Angels now?" Jean asked as she followed the men out of the room.

* * *

"Hannibal, this is _never_ going to work," Face said as he tried straightening out the collar on Jean's jacket as they drove to the bar, "They're never going to buy Jean as a man."

"Hey, it fooled Roddy when I was an MP," she reminded them.

Decker turned and glared at her in remembrance of that little episode.

"Yeah but don't forget," Face pointed out, "These guys are trained pilots, they have _excellent_ eyesight."

Now Decker turned and was staring daggers at him instead, he wasn't sure who to take the most offense at.

From the back of the van, Murdock was crumpled in a corner by himself and coughing to the point he sounded like he was trying to clear a lung out of his throat.

"What's the matter with him?" Decker asked.

Jean took the liberty of answering and told him, "TB."

He glared at her and said dryly, "Very funny."

"Oh you don't believe me? Well that's fine," Jean turned to Murdock and said, "Hey Murdock, come over here and cough on the colonel."

That remark earned a low giggle from the big angry mudsucker up front in the driver's seat.

Decker turned to Hannibal and swore, "When this is over, Smith, I'm going to personally see to it that you get put in the smallest cell in Fort Bragg and stay there until we bury you."

Hannibal silently contemplated this for a minute as he took out a new cigar and lit it, and finally responded by saying to Decker, "You keep talking to me like that, and you're _not_ going to get me into bed, dear." It was one of the more unusual comebacks he'd made to anybody but the look on Decker's face when he said it had made it all worthwhile, and well as the barrage of laughter from the back of the van.

"Alright, B.A., stop here," Hannibal said, and turning around to face Jean and Murdock he told them, "It's Riley's Bar, two blocks ahead, past all those parked cars," he pointed up the road, "You know what to do."

"We do," Jean confirmed.

"I still say it won't work," Face told him.

"Come on, Faceman, be positive," Murdock said.

"Alright, I'm positive it won't work."

"Shut up, Face," Jean told him, "You worry too much."

"In any case," Hannibal said, "We'll be able to hear everything that goes on."

Murdock smiled and pulled back the collar on his jacket revealing the wireless microphone hidden away oh so well, then readjusted his collar. The van stopped and so did the car next to them; Crane got out of the car and got in the front of the van as had been his orders, and Murdock and Jean got out of the van and shut the door behind them and quickly disappeared from view.

"And why are _we_ staying back here, Smith?" Decker inquired.

"This is the waiting process," Hannibal explained, "We _could_ have left _you_ home but I'm worried you'd scratch the door to pieces."

"I still say it's not going to work," Face told Hannibal.

"It won't matter if it does or not," he replied.

"What?"

"They might believe that Jean's a man," Hannibal said, "But they're going to know she is _not_ from the Air Force, which she doesn't need to be. You heard what Corbin said, about half of the men running the drugs are only there to look the part, and she will."

"You willing to bet money on that?" Face asked.

Hannibal reached into his jacket and took a bill out, but they forgot the wager when they heard static on the receiver and strained to listen to what was going on in the bar.

Murdock had automatically struck up a conversation with a couple of the men there, he told them that he was new in and had been sent there by somebody whose name they'd picked up off the phone tap. So far everything seemed to be going well, the men either believed it, or weren't letting on if they didn't. Also so far Jean hadn't gotten a word in edgewise yet and Hannibal took it as meaning they really hadn't noticed her yet. He could just picture them, standing at the bar, Murdock in the middle of them all, his hands making little gestures as he carried on and on, Jean pressed away in the corner, all but forgotten for the duration of the conversation.

"Though it's to my understanding," Murdock said suddenly, "There's been some kind of bad blood between you guys, and the regular army, am I right?"

"No bad blood my friend," one of the other men replied, "No bad blood at all."

"No, only spilt," another answered, and there was a laugh shared between them.

"Oh yes, I remember hearing something about that," Murdock said, "Uh, what was it, three of them in a car that turned over and blew up?"

One of the other men laughed again and said, "Well I don't know anything about it turning over, but the men in it got blown clear to the pearly gates before St. Peter even knew what hit him."

"Who's the wall flower?" the first man asked.

"Oh that's my cousin," Murdock answered, "He's with me."

"He got a name?"

"Sure he got a name, I was there when his mama gave it to him," Murdock answered.

"Oh really…" it sounded like one of the men was moving and suddenly he said, "He looks more like a she to me."

"Surprise," Jean replied flatly, "But it took you long enough to figure it out."

"That's how she gets around," Murdock said, "See she's helped me on a few runs and that's her cover…we do our jobs in the dead of night, nobody ever notices the difference."

"She fly?"

Jean's grin could practically be heard as she replied, "You name it, I can fly it…him too, he was in the Thunderbirds."

"Well, it's never hurt before," one of the men said, "Course…never really had the need for their work specifically."

"Harrumph," Jean replied, "Then your boss never had his business run _right_."

"Big talk."

"Maybe, but we can deliver the results," Murdock said.

There was a momentary silence and then one of the men said, "I think it's worth a try…we're picking up a shipment tonight."

"Where?" Jean asked.

"You'll get the location when you come in and pick up the chopper."

"One question," she persisted, "We're used to running these things solo on our own scale, so what I want to know is are we now getting into territory where we can be killed for asking too many questions?"

"Just depends on what questions you're asking."

Jean groaned and murmured to Murdock, "I should've stayed in Jersey." She spoke up to the men and said, "Maybe you can help us, our car died a couple blocks from here, can't get it started for nothing."

"Ah ha," Hannibal said, "They're coming back here."

"Huh, what do you know?" Face asked, "This might just work after all."

"Get ready," Hannibal told them.

They watched as Murdock and Jean made their way back with the two men in tow. As soon as they got within five feet of the van, Face and Hannibal threw the doors open and jumped out and very subtly pulled their guns on the men. Hannibal signaled for the two men who looked about 30 if even that, to be quiet and get inside. They didn't have much chance to protest because Jean and Murdock pulled their own guns and stuck them into their backs.

"What's your name?" Hannibal asked the first man.

"Richardson," he answered.

"What's your name?" Hannibal turned to the second man.

"Colbert, sir."

"Well that's fine," Hannibal told them as he patted them down and collected their own guns, "Now boys, we're going to go for a little ride and you're going to show me where that shipment is."

"And if you don't like those conditions, you can always take it up with our complaint department," Face said, pointing to B.A. up front, "Right there."

"Hannibal," Jean said, "We can't all fit in the van, hand over the keys and we'll take Decker's car."

Richardson and Colbert turned at that name, "Decker?"

"That's right," Hannibal pointed his gun towards Decker, "This is Colonel Decker, the _real_ Colonel Roderick Decker."

For the first time in two days, Decker seemed to be enjoying going along with this whole mess. He leaned across to see the men better and crinkled up his eyes and actually grinned at them. Face noticed this as well and murmured to Hannibal, "If Jaws had ever needed a double, we got the right shark here."

* * *

"Stiff competition _indeed_," Hannibal concluded a couple of hours later when they'd finished examining the helicopter that was going to be used for the delivery and were finally able to breathe again, "What'd you find, B.A.?"

B.A. grunted and said, "The bomb was time based, Hannibal, had it set to go off at a time I've determined to be for the initial liftoff, _however_ they had it rigged so every time I tried to dismantle it, the timer cut out half an hour closer to detonation time. By the time I got the right wires pulled and cut, it had gone down to five minutes before blastoff."

Hannibal turned to the two pilots who stood back in awe at the discovery. Richardson was scratching his head and asked in disbelief, "_How_ did they find out about this mission? How could they have known which flight it would be or when it took off?"

"Maybe you've got a leak," Face suggested.

"I'll tell you what we're going to do," Hannibal told the men, "I want to get my hands on this guy passing himself off as Decker and every scum-sucking piece of garbage under his thumb, so if you'll get us in under the radar and get us in as your new help, we will personally deliver every last one of these guys' heads to you on a platter."

Face didn't like the sound of that, however he held his tongue until the agreement was made and both sides parted for the time being. Before that happened though, Jean grabbed Colbert and said, "The guys you're trying to blow up tried to kill me because they thought I _was_ with you and they _did_ say they were going to kill the colonel. The guy they're working for is passing himself off as Colonel Decker, but what's _your_ colonel's name?" As the man opened his mouth Jean told him, "And if you say _this_ colonel's name is Lynch, I'm going to kill you."

"No," he answered, "Colonel Brubaker."

"That name ring any bells?" Jean asked Hannibal.

"Not a one," he answered.

"Good," she said, and then the two sides parted.

Once Richardson and Colbert were out of sight, Face grabbed the back of Hannibal's jacket and gave it a yank and said, "Hannibal, have you lost your mind? We're actually going to help these people?"

"Did I say that?" Hannibal asked innocently, "More likely I just let them think that."

"Well what's the plan, Colonel?" Murdock asked.

With a smirk, Hannibal explained, "In our legal system there's something called rolling over, you get in two people accused of the same crime with pretty much the same amount of evidence on both which isn't much, to make the case against one of them you make a deal with the other in exchange for a lesser charge."

"And that's what we're doing?" Face asked.

"No, but they're going to _think_ we are," he explained, "Now we go find the army boys, and tell them the same story, that we are going to help them haul in all the airborne boys, and then we cut our ties and drag them _all_ in."

"I imagine a presentation like that ought to do you some favors with your superiors," Jean commented to Decker as they walked behind the others.

"That's another reason why we're doing this," Hannibal told Face.

"What?"

Hannibal turned around and pointed back at Decker and said, "Also in our legal system, every defendant has the right to face his accuser in court…and I think Decker's as entitled to come face-to-face with this imposter as we are. After all it's _his_ name that's being dragged through the mud."

"I just can't believe you, Hannibal," Face said, "The man's trying to have us put in prison and you want to help him?"

Hannibal shrugged and said, "Must just be me going soft in my old age."

"So how do we find _these_ guys?" Face asked.

"Colbert told me where they were going to plant another bomb, we go there and work our way around, something has to pop up."

"I'll like it when this whole thing's over," Jean said as she ran to catch up with them, "It's making me dizzy. Hannibal," Jean caught up with him and yanked him back by his jacket, and when he turned around she said, "I just want to get something cleared before we go any further in this. What are the odds that the man behind the mask _here_ is another jerk from your own past?"

"What do you mean?" Hannibal asked.

"Well let's review, shall we?" she replied, "When I got shot, that was your old buddy, Frank Carter, remember that? And then last time, when I about became a crispy critter in that car bombing, that was that guy Buchanan that both of you knew in Vietnam. So what're the odds that we're dealing with somebody else from your past now?"

"I doubt that it's anybody I'd know," Hannibal said, and turning around he asked the other colonel, "How about you, Decker? Does this reek of anybody in particular you know about?"

"No," Decker answered firmly.

"Well," Hannibal turned back to the front, "I guess time will tell."

* * *

"It's too bad that I don't have my camera anymore," Murdock told Jean that night when they'd stopped at a motel to rest at until the next morning, "It sure would've come in handy during the bar fight the other day. It would've made a great sequel to my last movie."

"Well face it, Murdock, you're not Alfred Hitchcock," Jean said, "Your last movie did poorly."

"Well," Murdock shrugged, "Hitchcock started directing comedies, you see how far he came from that…besides, if we could've gotten you on film beating the crud out of that Jocelyn woman, you'd nail that audition for sure."

"I'd forgotten about that," she told him, "It's been a long week."

The bathroom door opened and Face limped out groaning under his breath, and when he spoke up he looked at them both and asked, "_Why_ is it every time we stop somewhere for the night I always get stuck with you two?"

"Would you rather bunk with B.A. and Hannibal?" Jean asked.

Face thought about it for a minute and decided, "No, B.A. snores so loud it sounds like a chainsaw and Hannibal had a tendency to smoke in bed."

Jean noted how stiffly he seemed to be moving and she asked him, "What's the matter with you?"

"I think it's from that barroom brawl we got in…there ought to be a statute, if you have size 13 feet you do _not_ need steel toes," Face answered as he crawled into his own bed.

Jean went over to the wall and put her ear to it, "Nothing." She went back over to the men and said, "I still don't see why Hannibal insists on bringing Decker along for this whole mess. Doesn't he know that he's only compromising the whole Team? Decker's finding out all of your little tricks, how you operate, it's going to put him in a better position to catch you next time."

"Well what can you say?" Face replied, "You know how Hannibal is when he's on the jazz."

Murdock shook his head, "I don't think that's all that this is, Faceman."

"Well what else could it be?" Face asked as he got out of bed, "I mean this guy is absolutely relentless, Decker would stop at nothing to have all of our heads mounted and Hannibal knows that."

"Not noting," Murdock argued, "He's here with us now, isn't he? He hasn't turned us over to the MPs yet."

"For one thing he's in no position to do that," Face reminded him, "And for another, he's not going to turn us over to anybody else to do his dirty work for him, he's going to personally deliver us to the plane heading for Fort Bragg himself."

"He does and I'll…" Jean picked up the metal phone on the nightstand like it was an ashtray she was ready to brain somebody with.

Face turned back to Murdock and said to him, "Three billion women in the world, and you just _had_ to marry this one, didn't you?"

"And what is wrong with that?" Jean asked as she put the phone down and went over to the men.

"Nothing, if you like having a bloodthirsty cutthroat for a sister-in-law," Face said as he turned to address her.

"Oh! And I suppose you'd be happier with the outcome if he had married one of those useless seat cushions like you've always got draped on your arms, is that it?" Jean replied.

"It would sure be an improvement," Face said, "At least every time one of them would go out we wouldn't have to worry about her getting herself ambushed by the third marine division!"

"Shut up, shut up both of you!" Murdock told them, his voice raised to be heard over both their squabbling, but not particularly firm, just enough to get their attention. However he was ignored and met only with both of them turning towards him and each of them slapping one of his cheeks and telling him to stay out of this.

"This is familiar," he concluded, only this time he didn't want to get Hannibal and B.A. up to run interference. Instead, he decided to take matters into his own hands, and did so by grabbing Jean from behind and lifting her off the ground with her arms at her sides and locked in the choke hold he had her midsection in.

Jean groaned from the sudden pressure placed against her ribs and she said gruffly, "Put me down!"

"No, not yet," he told her, and he looked past her to Face, but addressed them both as he said, "I want to know what's going on around here, why are you two always at each other's throats?"

"We can't help it, Murdock," Jean told him, "It is the people that we are, I don't like him, and he doesn't like me."

"Now that's not true and you know it," Murdock replied as he let go of her and let her feet hit the floor, a bit harder than was necessary. He looked at them both and said, "I know you both better than that, so I'd like an explanation for why this is happening."

Face ran his hand over his face and looked like he was starting to get a migraine and he said, "I'm sorry, Murdock, I guess we're all just on edge with the extra company we're currently stuck with."

"That's his excuse," Jean told Murdock, "Mine is that I'm always a delightfully _nasty_ person when I'm not feeling well."

"What's the matter?"

"I think I'm catching your cold," she answered, "However, I can't get mad at you for that, so instead I take it out on the second person nearest me, and as the man said, it's the three of us always bunking down together so he's in the direct line of fire."

Murdock looked at the two of them as if he was considering the possibility that they were telling the truth, and then suddenly, he broke out in a large grin and started laughing, and they both looked at him like he'd finally snapped.

"What is it?" they asked.

"I've got it," he said with an air of realization in his tone, "I know what it is."

"What _what_ is?" Face asked.

"Why you two are always fighting with each other," Murdock said, his grin ever persistent as he looked at them with an almost dreamy look in his eyes as he crooned, "You two are so cute sometimes."

"Murdock, what in the hell are you talking about?" Jean asked.

"Well it's obvious, Saint, I'm surprised I didn't figure it out before," he said, "What's going on here is nothing more than a little displaced sibling rivalry."

"What!?" they both responded.

"I always knew you were crazy, Murdock," Jean said, "Now you've just proven it."

"Yeah Murdock," Face had to agree, "What're you talking about sibling rivalry? We're not even…" and then he caught himself and groaned. He'd already hanged himself with his previous comment about having Jean for a _sister_-in-law.

"It makes perfect sense," Murdock said.

Face grumbled something under his breath about where Murdock was concerned, _nothing_ ever made perfect sense, but the pilot ignored him and continued, "Brothers and sisters fight all the time, sometimes physically but most often verbally, it's in their nature, if they didn't do that there would be anarchy, mass hysteria, the fibers of the universe would be unraveled into a big mess of tangled yarn if that were to happen."

"And how would you know all this?" Jean asked him, "Weren't you an only child?"

"Yes, that's exactly my point, _all_ of us were," Murdock explained, "And now we're all jammed together as a family, that creates tension as would be naturally produced among biological siblings and this is the direct end result."

"Yeah but you and Face have known each other for 10 years and you guys don't do this," Jean pointed out.

"No," he agreed, "But I have been well compensated with my other brother, my blood brother, B.A. You see, it's his job to be the bigger, more intimidating threatening brother, and likewise it's my job as the little brother to trade insults with him and give him a hard time on occasions."

"Every day must be an occasion in your eyes," Face commented.

Something had occurred to Jean while Murdock was talking and she'd tried getting his attention, to no avail, now that he had stopped talking she grabbed him to make sure she had his attention and said, "What do you mean blood brother?"

"Didn't I ever tell you about the time I saved his life?" Murdock asked, "That's how we met Maggie Sullivan, you see…"

"Murdock," Face interrupted and said, "Do you think the story can wait till morning? I'd like to get some sleep."

"Oh, sure," Murdock replied, turning back to Jean he murmured in her ear, "I'll tell you later."

"Murdock," she said as they got into bed, "Do you think Hannibal's got anything planned for tracking down this other guy, Colonel Brubaker?"

"Well he hasn't said anything to me yet," he said, "But if we're going to take the whole ring out, then we have to take it straight to the top."

Jean groaned and shook her head, "It doesn't matter how many people we take out of this, it's never going to stop, this is just going to keep happening in and out of the military, until the end of time. Makes you wonder why we even bother trying to stop it."

Murdock didn't say anything for a minute, and then he responded to that with, "Well, you can't kill all the weeds but you can sure as hell yank the ones you got out of the garden and enjoy the time before they grow back. It might take a while to get done but it's still worth doing."

Neither of them said a word for a few minutes, they just lay alongside each other in the dark room and listened to Face's even breaths telling them that he was already asleep. As Murdock moved to turn on his side, Jean put her hand on his shoulder and said quietly, "Murdock, why do you think Hannibal is doing this for Decker? For what possible reason?"

Murdock turned to face her and he said, "I think it's something personal between them, kind of one colonel to another."

"But why? I thought Hannibal hated Decker."

"Well…you can still show basic human respect to a person you find as tolerable as a cockroach," Murdock told her, "You know, Hannibal's right, Decker _knows_ he's never going to catch us, we're always going to get away…catching us would be a hollow victory but it would still be a victory, one that he's never going to have, and Hannibal knows this. So, I think he's helping Decker with this, so he can find out who's dragging his name further through the mud, so when he dies he can at least have one victory to his name, it's something that everybody needs, just to say that it gave purpose to their life."

"Doesn't say much for his life, does it?" Jean replied.

Murdock shrugged and explained, "For some people, that purpose is getting married, having children, starting a family, for others it's swimming the English Channel or climbing the Matterhorn…but if Decker doesn't clear his name and bring these people in, then when he dies, his whole life will have been in vain. And when you consider it from that point, it's easier to feel kind of sorry for him."

"Maybe you can," she said.

Murdock smiled at her and crooned, "Oh come on, Saint, I know that there's something going through your mind right now, something involving the not so great colonel."

She turned away from him and said, "Well…maybe."

"What is it?" he asked.

She looked back at him and admitted, "Yeah I guess I felt kind of bad for him when that General Bullen was chewing him out on the phone…I was thinking before his chase with us resumes, that…I'd kind of like to do something for him."

"What's that?" Murdock amusedly inquired.

* * *

It was the next night when they made their move. With a little technologically assisted eavesdropping, Hannibal was able to pick up a message that the army men were planning to steal a shipment of heroin that was being kept in a hangar at a small airport that was originally going to be picked up by one of Richardson's partners. It wasn't that they were stealing the merchandise to turn a profit for themselves; but the package was going to be altered so it was contaminated, and then repackaged and put back where it was, so that when the drug had its newly desired effect on whoever was going to be using the product, that in itself would take care of the competition by starting a vendetta within the Air Force's ring with its own clients.

"Personally I think these guys have seen too many movies," Hannibal commented to Decker as they made their way up to the hangar in the dark, "I mean think about it, these guys are only shipping the drugs out, they're not manufacturing it firsthand, so if it comes up tainted and kills off everybody who injects it into their veins, why would they automatically return fire on the messenger who delivered the package?"

"Which hangar did it say?" Decker asked, pointing at the buildings up ahead, and ignoring Hannibal's question entirely.

Hannibal sighed and answered, "Hangar five."

"Are you _sure_?" Decker asked condescendingly.

"Decker, I know how to count to five," Hannibal told him, "You ought to be able too, you don't have to take off your shoes to get to that number."

"If you think you're funny, Smith, think again," Decker remarked.

"Oh I don't think I'm funny," he answered coyly, "I leave that job to your face."

Decker turned on his heel and looked back the way they'd come and asked, "Where are the others?"

"Other what?" Hannibal asked him.

"Peck and Baracus and Murdock, what do you _think_?" Decker replied.

"They're close by, don't worry," Hannibal told him.

"And what about Crane? I haven't heard a word out of him in over an hour."

"Well that either means that he's still with B.A. and being a smart captain and keeping his mouth shut…or he tried to get help and they're burying him," Hannibal lightly responded.

"Again with the jokes," Decker sneered.

"Oh Decker, would you relax?" Hannibal asked, "Everybody's in position, everybody knows what they're doing, and unlike you, we're professionals."

"Oh shut up," Decker told him as he walked ahead of Hannibal, "I don't know why I agreed to come with you."

"Because being a colonel, you wouldn't have been satisfied staying back with the others," Hannibal answered, "You've always got to be on the front line and get that adrenaline rush, it's what keeps you going, that's why you keep chasing after us even though you know you're never going to catch us."

"Don't hold your breath on that one, Smith," Decker told him as he undid the lock on the doors, "When this is over nothing's going to have changed between us, and I'll come for you again."

Hannibal smirked over his cigar and said, "Wouldn't have it any other way, Decker, I can always use the exercise."

Decker glared at him through one eye and Hannibal would swear he could hear the man growling under his breath, he just laughed lightly in response.

They got the doors open and quietly stepped inside the dark hangar. Hannibal shone his flashlight in so they could see where they were going and where the crate with the heroin was being kept, and they found it over in a corner.

"Well they haven't gotten it yet," Hannibal said, "So we'll just be here waiting for them when they come."

"Fine," Decker agreed, "Let's get the doors closed before somebody sees us."

He walked ahead of Hannibal and headed back to the hangar's entrance and Hannibal followed right behind him. They had just reached the doors when the quiet of the night exploded into a deafening roar of gunfire from somewhere outside. It happened too fast for Hannibal to actually notice what had happened; he just heard Decker groan and fall back, Hannibal caught him and he felt something and realized it was a second bullet ripping through the side of his jacket, just barely grazing his own skin, but he realized as they both fell on the ground that based on how they were positioned standing, that the bullet had gone clear through Decker first. Hannibal's hands were already soaked in warm blood, Decker's blood!

Decker had been shot twice and at least one of the bullets had been a through and through shot; he was groaning but otherwise he was unresponsive as Hannibal tried to get him to focus. Clawing at the walkie talkie in his pocket, Hannibal fumbled with it and managed to get it out and as soon as he pressed down on the 'talk' button he was screaming into it, "All units to hangar 5! Proceed with extreme caution. Shots fired, bag is leaking, I repeat, bag is leaking!"

Hannibal dropped the walkie talkie and pressed Decker's jacket against the one entry wound he could find, trying to remain calm but he felt his hands trembling fiercely. Decker wasn't groaning anymore, now he wasn't making _any_ noise, and the silence was more deafening than any sound he could've made.

"Come on, Decker, don't you do this to me, don't you dare die on me now!" Hannibal told him. But there was no response from the other colonel, and his blood had already soaked clear through his jacket.

* * *

Decker was aware the up and down movement of his chest as he breathed, and he slowly opened his eyes. The sudden light was blinding but he managed to keep his eyes open as he looked around and realized they weren't at the hangar anymore. They seemed to be in a doctor's office or an operating room. It was white, sterile, bright, and he realized he wasn't alone. He couldn't hear things too well and his sight was a bit blurred, but he slowly moved his eyes and then his head and he could see the people in the room with him. First he could see Crane standing over him, looking worried, and standing next to him were Peck and Murdock, who wore similar expressions on their own faces. Past them, Decker could see Baracus standing by the door, as if he was making sure nobody came in. To the left, Decker could see the Rhodes woman, and she had a gun drawn and was holding it on someone else in the room that Decker couldn't see.

He hadn't been able to hear much, feeling as if he had water in his ears or something, but he was able to make out the words accompanying the movements of Jean's lips, "Either you get him fixed up right, or there's going to be more than one dead body in this room, Doctor." And to emphasize that she meant it, she cocked back the hammer on the gun and moved her index finger a fraction of an inch closer to the trigger.

Decker moved his gaze back to directly in front of him and he realized that Hannibal was right in front of him, and looking down he could see that both of Hannibal's hands were wrapped around one of his own. His own hand was white knuckled from the monster grip he held onto Smith's with, but both of Smith's hands were covered in half dried blood. It occurred to Decker that he must've been on some kind of drugs because he couldn't feel his hand squeezing the life out of Hannibal's, because he also wasn't aware that he was in any pain. And that was when he realized that the blood covering Smith's hands was his own blood. He didn't wonder _why_ his blood was on the other man, he didn't have time to, suddenly his eyelids suddenly weighed 40 pounds each and he closed them again and succumbed to a quiet, peaceful blackness.

* * *

"Isn't it funny how some people look so peaceful when they're asleep?" Hannibal commented to Face as they watched Decker sleeping in the hospital bed, the only movement from the colonel his chest rising and falling slowly and softly, though there were plenty of sounds from the machines he was currently hooked up to.

"Never thought I'd say it," Face said, "But he almost looks human this way."

"Well," Hannibal held up his hand, that he still hadn't had a chance to wash yet, "We know he bleeds just like the rest of us."

They heard somebody come into the room and turned to see it was Crane. He had Decker's green hat in his hands and he wrung it like a wet sponge as he spoke, "The doctors said that if all goes well he'll make a quick recovery, but all the same they estimate it'll be about two weeks before they can discharge him."

"We'll make it easy on him," Hannibal said with a knowing smile, "We'll stay in the area so he can catch up."

"Uh…look, Smith…" Crane had twisted Decker's hat so much he was about to tear it apart completely, "I…I just wanted to say thank you for what you did."

"I told you before," Jean said as she passed by the doorway, "I told your colonel, contrary to popular belief, _they're_ not the bad guys."

"Yeah…" Crane hesitantly agreed, even though she was gone before she could hear it.

"You're alright yourself, Crane," Hannibal told him, "I'm surprised you've been able to put up with Decker for this long without shooting him yourself."

Crane lowered his head and looked to the floor. "I wish I could say that this changed things, Smith."

"I know," Hannibal replied, "But I know you have your job to do."

"Uh…right," Crane picked his head up, turned on his heel and walked out of the room, suddenly deciding he needed to get some air.

Out in the hallway, Crane saw a couple of doctors and nurses pass by; B.A. stood leaning against the opposite side wall, occasionally he glanced over at Murdock, who was laying down on a gurney at the corner of the hallway to rest, and Jean, who was also trying to rest and was lying down on Murdock.

"So tell it to me again," she tiredly said to Murdock.

They both had their eyes closed as they talked; it was after two o' clock in the morning and nobody had had a chance to get any sleep. They'd all stayed in the operating room for the duration of Decker's surgery after strong arming their way in in the first place; two hours and none of them had moved, two hours before Jean was able to put her gun away and give her hand a rest, everything mixed together to strike them both with pure fatigue and now that they knew Decker was out of the woods, all they wanted to do was sleep but they knew they couldn't sleep yet because they'd be leaving soon.

"Tell you what again?" Murdock tiredly asked.

"Tell me again about the time B.A. got shot and you saved his life by giving him your blood."

B.A. turned at the mention of that and he looked over at Murdock as the pilot explained, "Well I'm here, I'm in my room, and the call comes in: Red Ball 1, Bag is Leaking."

"What's that mean?" Jean cut him off.

"Red Ball 1 means it's something big, and 'bag is leaking' means that one of the guys got shot."

"That's why Hannibal was screaming that earlier," she realized.

"Anyway, Amy picks me up and gets me out to Bad Rock, and I see the big guy is looking a bit on the pale side for a change. He and I are both AB-negative, so I was the only person who could do the transfusion. Course he was nervous, worried my blood was gonna make him crazy."

"But it didn't," Jean said.

"No, that's what I told him, it'd make him _mellow_, but he didn't believe me, but it sho' did, you should've seen him right after the doctor finished with us."

"Hmm," Jean murmured into his chest, "Obviously the effect was short lived."

"No," Murdock told her as he kept one arm around her, "It was most obvious at first because it was new blood coursing through his veins, but after a while it runs through that whole gargantuan body and blends in with his own collection of AB-negative, so it's harder to notice now, but you can _tell_…" he looked over at B.A., who wasn't looking his way at the moment and smiled, "There's a little bit of me in my best friend, that's the highest honor I could ever have, knowing that a little piece of me will live on in him."

B.A. turned his head to the side to see Murdock when he said that, but the pilot was halfway asleep and didn't notice the gesture.

"Think it's still there, Murdock?" Jean asked.

"Why sure, you can tell…I used to drive him up the wall all the time, but these days it takes a lot more to get him to the choking point to shut me up…" Murdock smiled as he added, "Sometimes he even goes along with what I got planned, it's a lot more fun now."

"Well if that's true…" Jean said, but she disregarded that thought and instead she asked Murdock, "How long do you think it'll take Decker to find out?"

"Well…first the drugs have to wear out, and after that he'll be in too much pain the first few days to notice anything else," Murdock told her.

"Kind of odd," Jean said, "He gets shot in the stomach _and_ the chest, and his surgery takes 6 hours less than mine."

"All due respect, they only had one bullet to dig out of him," Murdock told her, "And it wasn't anywhere near his heart…they had their work cut out for them with you."

"At least they had my blood on hand," Jean replied, "But man, just wait till Decker finds out that Hannibal gave him _his_ blood when they needed to do the transfusion."

"That's the Colonel for you," Murdock told her, "He may detest Decker for what he is and the things he's done, but he's not willing to let the man die if he can help it."

"But why?" Jean asked.

"Because Hannibal is a good man," Murdock answered, "Like you told Decker last time at the hospital, we're not the bad guys, and that's certainly true for the Colonel. After all he is the man at the heart of all this dispute between us and the United States Army. Besides, why would you threaten the doctors to do the surgery right if _you_ hate him so much?"

"Crane said Decker's gonna have to be here for a couple of weeks before they'll release him," Jean lifted up her head to look Murdock in the eyes as she told him the news.

"He'll be well taken care of," Murdock told her, "He's going to be in very capable hands."

They heard a set of footsteps rounding the corner and Murdock lifted his head up and saw Dr. Richter heading their way.

"Hello, Murdock," he said.

"Hi, Doc."

Richter looked from Murdock to his wife and added, "Hello, Jean."

"Yeah," she answered flatly.

"How've you been, Murdock?" Richter asked.

"I'm fine, but what about Decker?" Murdock asked.

"They said he's going to live," Jean said as they got up from the gurney.

"Yes, I heard about that," Richter told her, "I understand that you went in and held the operating room hostage with a hand grenade?"

"No, it was at gunpoint," Jean answered, "There was a little misunderstanding between us and the attending surgeon."

Richter looked at Murdock with a 'so what else is new?' expression on his face and said, "I might've guessed."

"He'll be alright here, won't he, Doc?" Murdock asked.

"Of course he will, Murdock," Richter told him, "I also understand that you requested once he's out of Intensive Care, that he be moved to your old room, is that correct?"

"Yes, Doctor," Murdock answered, "I think it would be a good place for him, room #104 in the west wing, there are a lot of fond memories there."

"It's an unusual request to place a gunshot victim in the psychiatric ward."

"Yeah well why did you, a psychiatric doctor come in to inquire about a gunshot victim?" Jean asked, "Shrinks ain't real doctors."

Richter managed a forced smile as he said to Murdock, "I see some things never change."

"She's just tense, Doc, we've all been."

"Yes well, your friends Hannibal and Templeton filled me in on the details…as requested we're going to keep Colonel Decker in the hospital under observation and under an alias, but why exactly is that necessary?"

"It's a long story and we don't have time to tell it," Jean told the doctor, "Now can you guarantee he'll be here for at least two weeks?"

"The surgeons told me he had a narrow escape, it could've gone a lot worse for him…after that we will definitely take our time with his recovery and from there to his physical therapy."

Jean sneered, "Physical therapy, that's the biggest waste of time I ever heard of…but in this situation it's acceptable."

Hannibal appeared in the doorway and said to them, "If you want to say goodbye to Decker, now's your chance, we're leaving in a minute."

"Thanks for coming down, Doc," Murdock said as he took Richter's hand and shook it, "I really appreciate this."

"Murdock," Richter smiled at him, "Things won't ever be the same without you here."

Jean went back into the room and went over to the bed and hovered over Decker, waiting to see if he would wake up, but he didn't. She ran her fingers through his graying hair and whispered in his ear, "I told you they were the good guys, maybe now you'll believe it." She turned and said to Crane, "And I suppose we can assume that you'll be tending to him until further notice."

"Yes," Crane answered, "He has no family, I don't believe he should be left alone here, at least until he knows what happened."

"You're a good man yourself, Crane," Jean told him, "I hope _your_ colonel realizes it."

Crane turned to Hannibal and said, "Looks like you bought yourself a stay of execution, Colonel Smith."

Hannibal smiled and said, "I still owe Decker one, he took two bullets that could've gone through _me_ instead. So…he may be out of the game now, but I'm going to find the piece of garbage who's behind this whole mess and personally drag him in here with a big ribbon on his head as a get-well present for Roderick. You take care of your man, Crane, and we'll go after ours."

As they left the hospital room, Jean asked Hannibal, "How long do you think it'll take Decker to realize he's got your blood running around inside of him?"

"Oh, I think it'll go without saying," Hannibal told her, "Of course we were already a lot alike before…but I think he'll be able to notice when the difference takes effect."

"What difference?" Face asked.

"Well think about it, muchacho," Murdock told him as they went down the corridor to the exit, "If my blood can make the big angry mudsucker mellow out…then just think what wonders Hannibal's blood can work for Decker."

"Sure," Face said sarcastically, "He'll either try and shoot himself when he realizes it, or he might get a sudden urge to get work in Hollywood as a giant rubber monster."

"Either way it'll have to be an improvement," Jean concluded.


	13. Chapter 13

Nobody was getting any sleep tonight. As soon as the left the V.A. hospital and got back in the van, Hannibal told B.A. to drive them to the Federal Building; they were going to tear the place apart and go through all records until they found something that made the connection with the whole case. Where before Hannibal was a man with a mission, now he was just a man possessed; upon leaving the hospital he had suddenly become Edward Hyde, there was a murderous glare in his eyes and everybody could tell he wasn't going to rest until they had the top of the pyramid in their grasp. They traveled in silence though somewhere along the way, Jean whispered quietly to Murdock and Face, "What do you think's gotten in to him?"

Murdock shrugged and replied, "He's taking what happened tonight _very_ personally."

"Well he _was_ almost shot, Murdock," Face reminded him.

Murdock shook his head, "It's not that, it's about Decker."

"Decker's going to be alright," Jean reminded him.

"I know, but that's not what this is about…it's something personal for Hannibal, something I don't think he's going to be too willing to share with us. So in the meantime I would just recommend everybody keep their mouths shut and don't make any sudden movements."

"Does he really think we're going to find anything at the Federal Building?" Jean murmured to him.

"He must, it's all he has to go on right now," Murdock told her.

"Yeah? Well tell me something, Murdock," Jean said, "I know you guys all have the capacity to kill, Hannibal's already proven that one…would he have it in him to ever kill Decker?"

"The man's still here, what does that tell you?" Murdock asked, "It's not a question of could he kill Decker? The answer's yes of course, but he doesn't, and there's a reason for that."

"Murdock," Hannibal looked at their reflection in the rear view mirror, his tone more agitated than usual, "What're you talking about back there?"

"Nothing," he answered.

Jean suddenly had the feeling she was dealing with a live grenade that already lost its pin a long time ago and it was just a matter of time before it exploded.

* * *

The first place they started looking was in Decker's own office, it was the one room in the building they knew would be currently unoccupied so they had the freedom to search the place without fear of being caught. However, they went through every record in the filing cabinets and every report on Decker's desk and were coming up empty again.

"Hannibal, what're we supposed to be looking for anyway?" Face asked.

"I don't buy that what happened tonight was an accident or a coincidence, or just a lucky shot," Hannibal said, "I think that whoever's involved in this knows Decker's in it now too and wants him out of the way to preserve the cover of the other Decker."

"And you think we're going to find anything here to tie them all up?" Jean asked.

"Could be," Hannibal answered as he flipped through a stack of papers on the desk.

The phone on the desk rang and everybody jumped. Face looked at his watch and asked, "Who's going to be calling here at 3 o' clock in the morning?"

"Maybe a wrong number from Hawaii," Murdock suggested.

"I don't know but I'll find out," Jean said as she reached for the receiver.

"Are you insane?" Face asked her.

"No, just one of the new incompetents, remember?" she replied as she grabbed the receiver, "Hello? Who?" she covered the mouthpiece and mouthed "Bullen" before lowering her hand and speaking into the receiver again, "Who? Colonel Decker? Well he's not here right now…why not?"

Through the corner of her eye Jean saw Murdock doing something and turned to see what it was and she saw him turning on an electric fan on the desk and feeding a bunch of papers in through the frame for the blades to catch, and she caught on to his idea. Struggling to hold back a laugh, she said into the phone, "I'm sorry sir, but there's a hurricane blowing down here and you'll have to talk a little louder." She held the receiver by the fan and said over the noise, "Whew! It certainly is the windiest day we ever did see around here, whew! It sure is windy!"

Murdock was also struggling not to laugh, Face had his hand planted over his mouth to keep from joining them, Hannibal and B.A. watched this from the other side of the room and Hannibal looked only mildly amused, B.A. just looked plain clueless on the matter.

"Decker you said?" Jean said into the phone, "Yeah, he's not here. Well how should _I_ know where he went? I'm just the cleaning lady…oh yeah?" she asked in an irritated tone and added, "Well same to you and I hope your dog dies." She put the phone on the switch hook but picked it up again before the call disconnected and said, "Just a moment, sir, I'll transfer you back to your party," and hung it up again.

"What was that about?" Face asked.

"Bullen wants to know where Decker is and what he's up to," Jean said, "This is why we put him in the V.A. under an alias in the first place, so nobody could find him."

"That's right, and also," Hannibal added, "So nobody knows where he is, they don't know he's in the hospital, so as far as anybody knows, Decker could be anywhere, ready to strike again at any time, that's what we want _them_ to think."

"Right, but what do we do now?" Jean asked.

Hannibal returned his attention to the papers he'd picked up off the desk and told the others, "I found something, Decker must've scribbled it down to track the source later on…something about a C-5B en route to or from Nicaragua."

Jean was half asleep and her eyes were just about fully closed, but she leaned over to Murdock and asked him, "C-5B, that's a transport plane, right?"

"Yep," he answered, "Right up there with the Globemasters. It's what we refer to as a FRED."

"A what?" she asked.

"Murdock," Hannibal cut the pilot off as he opened his mouth and he told Jean, "It just means there's a large upkeep to them."

"Well something that size I can see why," she said, "But what do you think it means, Hannibal?"

The look on Hannibal's face told them that he was already latching onto a plan as he explained, "Those planes hold 70 people, have 31,000 cubic feet for cargo storage."

Jean turned to Face and asked him, "How many kilos would it take to fill that up?"

"In Nicaragua?" Face asked in response.

"It's possible," Murdock said, "Drugs are a big business _anywhere_ you go in the world."

"Does it say where the plane is located?" Face asked.

Hannibal looked through the papers again and said, "Yeah, he wrote down something about the directions to an airstrip at an abandoned base."

"Do those have a lot of takeoffs at night?" Jean asked Murdock.

"Could be," Murdock said, "Those pilots are trained to fly in all conditions."

"Yeah but a plane that big," she said, "If anything would go wrong…"

"Let's go check it out," Hannibal told them, "I want to see if maybe ol' Decker kicked over a rock and found a king cobra without knowing it."

* * *

Following Decker's chicken scratch directions, they found themselves a good five miles from civilization and did find themselves at an old air base that looked like it had been put out of commission in the early 70s. And, they found the plane.

"Holy cats, that thing's _huge_," Jean observed.

"That's the idea," Hannibal said.

Murdock went up to the plane and ran his hand along the side like a man in love, "She's in prime condition, Colonel…practically showroom new."

"Know much about these planes, Murdock?" Jean asked him.

He hummed as he looked up at it and recalled, "Top speed 580 miles an hour, it's 65 feet tall, those wings go out 220 feet, sustains a maximum weight of 840,000 pounds."

"Too bad you guys can't keep one of these on hand for missions," she noted, "You'd have plenty of room for everything."

"Yeah," Murdock said fondly, "But these babies need a minimum crew of four people to keep everything in ship shape."

"Uh, Murdock," Face made his way around one side and caught up with them, "How do they load this thing up?"

"Through the nose of course," Murdock answered.

"Hmm, paying through it wasn't enough, eh?" Face replied, "Think there's anything in it _now_?"

"Wouldn't hurt to look," the pilot agreed.

"As big as this thing is it reminds me of the Hindenburg," Jean told Murdock, "I wonder what it would look like fallen apart and in flames?"

"It'd be a mighty fine mess I'll tell you that," he replied, "Probably about two billion dollars' damages to build a new one."

"Murdock, I got a question," Jean told him, "How much dynamite would it take to blow this sucker up?"

Murdock turned back and looked at her as if he was seriously considering the question.

"Murdock, can you get this thing opened up?" Hannibal asked him.

"If I can't then the angry mudsucker can," he answered, "Between the two of us we ought to be able to give this thing a nose job it'll never forget."

Jean went over by Hannibal while Murdock and B.A. worked on opening the cargo hold and she asked Hannibal, "How do you think Decker found out about this?"

"I don't know, I'll have to ask him when he regains consciousness," he told her.

"But you think it's connected?" she asked.

"We're about to find out."

"But what if they get it open and there's nothing in it?"

"Then we watch tomorrow and see if somebody comes to put anything on this behemoth," he explained.

Jean took a step back from him and, standing straight, said in a more somber tone, "Permission to speak, Colonel?" When he turned to her she asked him, "What if it turns out that this is just a wild goose chase and we don't find _anything_ here?"

"Then we're going to look somewhere else," he told her, "Somewhere is a connection to Decker and everything that's going on and I'm going to find it."

When they got the plane's nose opened up, they inspected the cargo hold and found that it _was_ empty, but Hannibal wasn't ready to admit defeat. He told the others that they would keep an eye on the plane for the rest of the night and all the next morning; it would be moving out soon and would have to be loaded up before too long.

"You know, I know I've said this before, but I think Hannibal's finally lost his mind," Jean told Face and Murdock.

"Not yet, but he will if this keeps up," Face replied.

"You think he's right that this was something personal?" she asked Murdock.

"Anything's possible," he said, "And I'll tell you something else…if they _are_ going to take that plane to leave the country, it wouldn't surprise me if the fake Decker's going out with it. He's got to know that the heat's on and he might be getting ready to get out of Dodge and to a safer region to preserve his own rear end."

"Hey listen," Jean told both men, "I think it would be a good idea that in addition to keeping an eye on the plane, that we take turns keeping an eye on Hannibal for the rest of the night as well."

"Sounds like a good idea," Face said, "He may know what he's doing but I think he's close to the breaking point. What happened to Decker tonight really shook him up."

"Oddly enough," Jean commented, "I thought you guys were used to death."

"You never get _used_ to it," Murdock told her, "You just come to accept it, but sometimes you can't even do that."

* * *

For the next couple of hours before the sun came up, Face and Murdock did as they agreed; Hannibal had taken the first watch and the others were supposed to be asleep, but while his back was turned, they took turns watching him also. They didn't really think that anything would happen that would call for their assistance during the watch but they weren't too eager to take any chances after what they'd all been put through last night.

It had taken them 15 minutes driving at top speed to get Decker to the hospital after he'd been shot, and during that time everybody had done everything they could think of to keep him from losing consciousness. Hannibal was screaming at him, cursing him for trying to give up now, Jean pinched him and snapped her fingers in his ears and told him to fight off the overwhelming urge to close his eyes like he had been fighting all of them, and Murdock and Face kept pressure applied to the two entrance wounds and in doing so went through the entire content of the first aid kit. Twice Decker closed his eyes and slumped his head down, and didn't respond to anything, but they never lost him, something which Hannibal couldn't describe as anything less than a miracle. It hadn't occurred to any of them at the time of the shooting, but once Decker was out of surgery and they had time to think about it, they realized that if he had died they would've been the ones arrested for his murder, who would ever believe that it had been someone else? Well, Hannibal figured once this whole thing was over they ought to be up to their armpits in evidence of not only that, but the whole corrupt mess that they'd been chasing after for the last week.

By the time the sun finally came up, Hannibal half resembled a zombie, but he showed no sign of resting anytime soon. Instead he kept himself occupied by scouting out the surrounding area and determining what their best strategy would be once the crew _did_ come to load up the plane. Everybody had already known to keep a slight distance from him last night, and after a night without any sleep they especially knew better than to press their luck by saying the wrong thing to him, so they kept their own comments about the possibility that it could all be a wild goose chase to themselves, deciding it would wait until further notice. Once they were off by themselves however, they spoke freely on their own theories about the matter at hand.

"What if he's wrong?" Jean asked, "Then that'll mean we were out here all night for nothing, wasting time when we could've been tracking down the right people."

"It's got to be something though," Face told her, "Decker wouldn't make it a point to come out here and see the place himself for nothing."

"Unless," Jean suggested, "He thought that _you_ guys would be using this plane to go overseas for a new mission."

"He ought to know us better than that," Face said, "Why would we steal a plane this big?"

"I don't know," she said, "Why did you steal an airbus when you guys went to Mexico the last time?"

"Quiet, quiet," Murdock warned them as he saw Hannibal coming their way.

"What's going on?" Hannibal demanded to know, very short temperedly.

"Nothing, Colonel," Murdock answered, "Did you find anything?"

Hannibal clamped his teeth down on his cigar and nodded, "Mm-hmm," and gestured for them to follow him. They did and saw what he had found, several sets of tire tracks cutting through the tall dead grass out to the airstrip.

"So they brought their cars out here, so what?" Jean asked.

"No," Hannibal answered, and twisted the toes of his boot against one tire track in the sand, "Not the right build for that."

"How do you know?" she asked.

"Because," Hannibal told her, "I've seen enough jeeps in my life to know what kind of tracks they make, there _is_ a difference."

She shrugged her shoulders, "Jeeps, cars, what difference does it make?"

"Maybe none," he said, "But they _do_ look recent, whoever _has_ been here, I'm willing to bet they'll be returning soon."

"And that's why we're here, Colonel," Murdock said, trying to convince Hannibal that they were on his side of this.

"Hannibal, wouldn't it make more sense if we were in the plane waiting for them so that when they got here they'd be on board and have severely limited options as to how to retaliate when we got the drop on them?" Jean suggested, "I mean think about it, it's a large plane but it's no tank, if they opened fire in there they'd jeopardize everything."

Hannibal shook his head, "No good, we'd be enclosed in the same place and they'd have a better chance of getting a lucky shot in with us, we want the wide, vast, open area to be our cover."

"Yeah but Hannibal…"

He glared at her and snapped, "I said we're going to stay out in the open and that is an order, _corporal_, if you don't like it then you know the way back to town."

Jean leaned back against Murdock and Face and as the breath hissed out through her almost closed mouth, she looked like he might as well as smacked her, and it didn't go unnoticed by the two men behind her either.

"Understood, _Colonel_," she replied coldly, and turned and walked away.

She heard the footsteps in the sand as Murdock and Face ran to catch up with her, Murdock snagged her by the arm and told her, "Jean, he didn't mean that."

"Of course he did," she shrugged him off, "He never says _anything_ he doesn't mean, that's what makes him _him_." Jean turned to Face and asked him, "How long would it take you to get a few sticks of dynamite and double back here so we can blow that plane up? If that doesn't take care of the situation at hand, then ain't anything going to."

Face looked at Murdock and neither said a word but they could tell the conman was considering the idea. Finally he nodded and went to get the van.

Murdock turned to Jean and said to her, "I'm not going to say what the Colonel did was right, but you've got to expect it, he _does_ have a tendency to get like this on occasions."

"And which occasions are those?" Jean asked, "Was he like this when _you_ got shot? Or B.A.?"

Murdock knew there wasn't any good way to answer that.

"I thought you said he was only like this when he got sick," Jean said.

Murdock felt his eyes open to twice their previous size when she said that, it was a possibility he hadn't considered before.

"Oh my God," Jean said when she saw the look on his face.

* * *

Hannibal's insistence to stakeout the base paid off. Before seven A.M. two military buses drove up to the base and out stepped about sixty young men in uniform; no doubt some were the real deal but Hannibal was willing to bet more of them than not were just imposters dressed for the part. From where they were hidden away around the base, they could see a few older men in uniform as well; now _these_ Hannibal could tell were the genuine articles, he let out an exasperated huff and shook his head, some things _never_ changed.

Face lay on the ground close to Hannibal and he was wringing his hands anxiously and asked, "What're we going to do, Hannibal?"

"Give it a minute," he told the lieutenant, "When they start boarding the plane, _then_ we'll move in."

They heard B.A. grunt from his position also close by, "Don't make no sense, Hannibal, nobody needs a plane _that_ big just for smuggling drugs."

"I know," he replied.

They stayed where they were and waited, and watched as the crew opened up the plane's nose. While that was going on, Face looked down the way the buses came and saw two semis coming up the same path.

"Hannibal, what's that?" he asked.

"I don't know," he said, "But I've got a bad feeling about it."

They watched as the trucks pulled up close to the plane. One of the drivers went around to the back and opened it up, and out stepped another man in uniform with an automatic rifle as he herded out dozens of young women who looked terrified out of their minds, not a one of them looked older than 25.

"Oh my God," Hannibal drudged out.

"Hannibal," the murderous growl was back in B.A.'s voice as he picked up his gun and said, "I got a good idea what's in that other truck."

"Yeah, me too," Hannibal said as he got up, "Alright, we're going in, everybody watch what you're doing."

Hannibal, Face and B.A. went to the front first, their machine guns aimed on the soldiers and Hannibal announced, "Alright, that's far enough!" gaining the attention of everybody out on the airstrip. For one brief moment, the men forgot about herding the women into the cargo hold of the plane and looked at their uninvited guests in nothing short of being absolutely dumbfounded by this interruption.

Hannibal remained calm but firm as he addressed the women and told them, "Sorry you had to make the long trip, ladies, but if you'll kindly step over to those buses we will refund your tickets and complete your round-trip back home."

"Hey pal," one of the soldiers pointed his gun at Hannibal, "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Me?" Hannibal shrugged innocently, "I'm the little man that turns off the light in electric iceboxes."

He saw the man reach for the trigger to put a few holes in him, but before he could, Murdock rose up from his own hiding spot and opened fire with a grenade launcher, that for the occasion had been loaded with smoke canisters, and as soon as they made impact a whole screen built up and blinded everybody. Hannibal knew they had to act fast so he and Face ran in and helped the women get out of the line of fire before the shooting started. Meanwhile, B.A. went around to the second semi and threw up the door on the back and confirmed what he had suspected; the second truck had been filled to the brim with small children, all of whom were equally terrified out of their minds.

"It's alright, we're here to help," he told them, and pointed the way out of the direct firing line and said, "Over there, quick."

Most of the children jumped out of the truck and ran, though B.A. grabbed a few smaller ones and carried them over, using his own body to shield them once he heard the shooting begin.

By this time, Murdock had joined the others and gotten in the middle of it and they used the smokescreen to their own advantage to take a few of the men by surprise and KO them, but it wasn't long before some others opened fire and then it became serious. The commandoes happily returned the fire, though by some stroke of fate each side was missing the other perfectly, but Hannibal knew the gravity of the situation, they were vastly outnumbered and they would run out of ammo long before these goons did.

One soldier was shot from behind and he fell to the ground screaming and writhing in pain; for a split second Hannibal and Face turned and saw that the shots came from within the plane's cargo hold, and Jean emerged with a Ruger Mini-14 in hand and continued firing indiscriminately on the parade of men in green camouflage. Her split second distraction gave the men the opportunity to blindside the soldiers nearest them and disarm them.

"Hannibal!" over the ongoing commotion of gunfire and people screaming, Hannibal was able to hear Jean calling his name at the top of her lungs and he turned to see her pointing to a man behind him and she told him, "LOOK!"

He turned and saw that the man behind the soldier he'd been kicking the crud out of wore a jacket with a colonel's insignia on it and the name on the breast pocket was…

"Decker!" Hannibal was out for blood now, he made his way between the two men and grabbed the phony colonel by the throat and said, "So _you're_ the one responsible for all this mess." He kicked the man in the stomach and rammed his fist into the imposter's nose, and when he fell back, Hannibal kicked him again as he went down, as hard as he could.

He was aware of somebody calling his name and suddenly felt two sets of arms grabbing him and he realized it was Murdock and Jean, and they were both screaming at him that they had to get out of there. He dragged his feet and turned to them both and asked one, then the other what the matter was. They tried to move him but he was too strong and too stubborn and demanded to know what was going on.

KABOOM!

Hannibal felt an immense heat on his back, and immediately felt the hard ground hit him against the face and realized he'd fallen down; it was only after he realized this that it occurred to him that his legs were killing him. He tried to ignore the pain in his legs as he forced himself to turn over onto his back but he only made it halfway, but it was enough to see that the cause of his injuries came from the 200 ton plane that had just exploded.

"Wha…" all of a sudden his brain didn't work right and he couldn't even form the words that he was asking inside of his head.

"How much dynamite was that?" Jean asked Murdock as they hovered over Hannibal, trying to assess the damage he'd sustained in the explosion.

Murdock leaned over to her and asked, "WHAT?"

Jean screamed into his ear, "HOW MUCH?"

"20 sticks, was that enough?" he asked her.

Hannibal half turned half fell the rest of the way onto his back and he was sorry he did; he told them to help him up and without any questions they each grabbed one arm and pulled him to his feet. It took him a couple of tries to keep his balance but he managed and he walked over to the other colonel who was still lying on the ground and he gave the man another kick for good measure. Then he told Face and Murdock, "Get him up. Face, where's the van?"

Face pointed, "Over there, why?"

"Why?" Hannibal repeated, "I'm calling this in." He turned to Murdock and asked, "Did you get that number for General Bullen?"

"Yes," Murdock answered as he followed Hannibal.

"B.A.!" Jean ran over to the sergeant who had stayed with the women and the children and was trying to the best of his abilities to keep everybody calm, even though that was a cause lost from the start. "B.A., are you guys alright?"

"Nobody got hit if that's what you mean," he answered, "But everybody's scared stiff and I don't blame them." He looked back to the burning wreckage of the plane and asked, "What idiot had the idea to blow up the plane?" Jean held her hand out for him to shake and he did a double take, "You?!"

"It's like you always say," Jean said as she shrugged her shoulders, "They ain't flying."

B.A. looked again to the remains of the airplane and laughed dryly, "Yeah, you got that right."

"B.A.," Jean said, "I think Hannibal was hit."

"What?"

Jean pointed back the way Hannibal had walked off and to the bloodstains on the ground and she told B.A., "He's leaving a trail behind him, but he won't let us take a look at him."

"Typical Hannibal," he told her.

"Hello, General Bullen?" Hannibal said gruffly into the van's phone, "I've got a newsbreak for you that's going to make finding the A-Team look like chickenfeed. Can you hear the noise out here?" he held the phone out the window to pick up the people screaming and the sounds the fire was causing, then he put the receiver back to his ear and said, "I'll tell you the way, but if you're going to bother coming you better bring the whole damn Red Cross with you, we've got about 300 people here in need of medical treatment, and bring a few guns to execute the miserable excuses for soldiers who are behind it. Don't even wait until dawn, just shoot them on sight, when you get here you won't have to ask why."

* * *

Decker could feel his head swimming, and that was one of the few things that he was aware of. He'd woken up sometime during the night and in a fit of coherency he demanded that he be taken off the morphine; he was aware he'd be in the hospital for a while but he didn't intend to spend his stay there doped to the gills like a common junkie who didn't have any idea where he was. He'd been shot before so the pain wasn't anything particularly new, it had just been a long time since he'd gone through something like this. He did remember when he first woke up that Crane had been there at his side, always loyal, dutiful, trustworthy Crane, the one person Decker knew he could always count on.

It took him a few hours to remember what had happened when he was shot and he questioned Crane about what happened to Smith and the rest of the A-Team. Crane had been very vague about the details at first, saying only that they had left to find the man who had shot him. It was only after one of the nurses made her rounds and inquired as to how he was feeling after the transfusion that Crane filled him in on the rest; that being the fact that Decker had lost so much blood on the way to the hospital that he almost died, and that Hannibal Smith of all people had agreed to give his blood to save Decker. This was a revelation that hit Decker harder than any drugs that were available in the building, and he was still trying to process that information. Crane had decided that it would be best to wait until another day to drop the other bombshell on Decker, that they were in the V.A. hospital in what used to be Murdock's own private room, and that Murdock himself had requested the transfer out of ICU, deciding that too much information too fast might not set well with the colonel.

Decker felt his eyes open when he heard the distant voices of somebody screaming down the hall. He recognized that voice. He turned to see the captain sitting beside his bed and said, with some difficulty, "Crane…"

"Yes, sir?" the attentive captain asked.

The voices were getting louder now, they were coming his way. "What's going on, Crane?"

Before he could answer, the door opened and the first thing Decker saw was Hannibal entering the room, and in behind him came Peck, Baracus, and Murdock. Decker rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing things clearly; when he opened them again he saw another man in the room, tied up, gagged and, much to Decker's confusion, a big red bow on his head.

"Smith," he tried to push himself up to get a better look at this, "What is this?"

"This is an early Christmas present from your friends at the Acme Window Cleaner company of Walla Walla, Washington," Hannibal said as he kicked the man and forced him to walk over towards the bed, "Colonel Decker, meet Colonel Decker, alias _First Lieutenant_ Roger Mulcahy. _This_ is the man who's been parading around putting your name on his smuggling operations involving drugs _and_ humans."

"What?" Decker asked.

"We followed your tip about the plane heading for Nicaragua," Face explained, "Found out these guys have made the graduation from heroin to human trafficking, they were using that plane to smuggle out 50 women and close to 200 children, some of which were smuggled into this country in the first place, and all of which I might add are currently being cared for courtesy of the army before they're returned to their homes. Sorry you missed the fireworks but we thought you'd like a door prize for your troubles."

Decker's head was still spinning and it was obvious he was having trouble taking all of this in, so Hannibal said, "Your captain will fill you in on all the details once your head's cleared, in the meantime I thought you'd like to meet the man who's been causing you so much trouble recently."

"Might've known," Crane said to them, "You always do what you set out to, don't you?"

"Usually," Hannibal answered, "Now, there's a certain general who's personally going to make sure every last one of the members of the United States Army who was involved in this mess is never going to see the light of day again, and he is outside waiting on the guest of honor," he pointed at Mulcahy, "But he's going to come in here for this one. That said, I'm sure the general would be only too happy to take us down along with the rest, so we leave you now, Decker."

"Smith!" Decker said as Hannibal reached the door.

Hannibal turned back and asked, "Yes?"

It took Decker a minute to say what he planned to, Hannibal guessed that he was considering his options and finally decided that when it was all over, Decker could claim temporary insanity from pain or the drugs when he said this, "Thank you, Smith."

Hannibal went back over to the bed and looked down at the colonel and replied, "You're welcome, Decker."

"Colonel, they're coming," Murdock said from where he was watching the door.

"Okay, we've got to get out of here," Hannibal said, looking at Decker he added jokingly, "Don't be a stranger, Roddy, come and see us _real_ soon!"

"He will," Crane told them, "You can count on that."

Once they were out the door, Murdock and Face each grabbed one side of Hannibal and helped him down the hall. Now that that was done, Hannibal quit his performance and sagged against the men as the pain in his right leg continued to throb and burn. Stubborn as always and knowing doing the procedure correctly would take a little time, Hannibal had refused to have the debris lodged into his leg from the explosion removed _before_ turning Decker's doppelganger over to him, he'd only allowed them to tie a bandage around the wound so he didn't track blood all over the floors in the V.A. But now they had to manage to avoid General Bullen and at the same time find a doctor they could trust to remove the pieces of metal from Hannibal's leg without turning them over to the MPs who were stationed outside. Following Hannibal's call to the general, they had stuck around but out of sight and watched as Bullen and the military police moved in; today was definitely a day that for the army would live in infamy, and then they'd left for the hospital, beating the MPs and the general by mere minutes. It was only too bad that Amy was still out of town because if she could've been the one to launch this story in the press, it would've done her a world of journalistic good.


	14. Chapter 14

A hum of content could be heard in Hannibal's throat as his head slightly swayed from one side to the other. The doctor had given him a shot for the pain, which the others were surprised to find out he needed when in the beginning he pulled off one leather glove and bit down on it when the doctor started removing the small pieces of metal lodged in his leg. By now, the procedure was already over, all the pieces had been removed, his wounds had been cleaned out and now the doctor was bandaging up his leg correctly, and Hannibal appeared to be halfway to cloud nine from the drugs.

"Does he always do this?" Jean asked Face.

"I've _never_ seen him act like this," Face told her.

"Oh that's just a special cocktail they give the patients when they're _really_ hurting," Murdock explained.

"They use it on you?" she asked.

"Nah, but I've known a lot of the people that get it," he said, "They put a little tranquilizer in with it so you'll sleep like a baby once you get put back in your room."

"Yeah well he's not setting up residency here," Face reminded Murdock, "We're getting him out of here and taking him home."

"Wouldn't that be a hoot though if they'd put him in with Decker?" Jean asked, "Two colonels recuperating side by side."

Face laughed and said, "Oh I could just see that. Incidentally do you know if the place is still surrounded?"

"All the fanfare's dying off now, Bullen left a few minutes ago," Jean said, "All the same it probably wouldn't hurt to steal a few scrubs and masks to make our run for it." When the men looked at her she shook her hands and said, "I'll have them put it on our bill…" looking at Hannibal she added, "And the cost of two pillows."

The men turned back to the bed and saw that Hannibal had fallen asleep, turned on his side and was hugging both the pillows behind his head in a death grip, and they noted he had a big smile on his sleeping face.

"Must be a good cocktail," Jean commented.

"Another satisfied customer," Murdock said.

"I'll just have them put it all on the bill," Jean said, "I'll go get that taken care of."

"Incidentally," Face stopped her before she left, "You got the bill for Hannibal's surgery, didn't you? How much did they charge for the operation?"

"Too damn much, but I'll get it paid," she assured them, "They got half of that blood money already…I don't make a particularly _good_ living in stunts but I _do_ know how to put it away."

Once she left the room, Murdock leaned over to Face and murmured, "Incidentally, Face…"

But the conman already knew what he was getting at, "Yeah I know, Murdock, when we get back to the house I'll give her our share of the money. I'd about forgotten about that."

Both men about hit the ceiling when they heard a sudden noise from the other side of the room and they realized Hannibal was humming something to himself as he turned over in the bed again.

Murdock went over to the bed and said into the colonel's ear, "You feeling alright, Hannibal?"

The colonel's only response was a content 'hmm' sound as he turned over again.

"After last night I guess that tranquilizer wasn't a bad idea," Face said, "At least now we know he'll get some rest."

"And a good thing," Jean added as she reentered the room, "I didn't like him throwing himself into this whole mess only a few days after his surgery, if anything would've happened to him because of it…"

"Oh the Colonel's a tough old bird," Murdock told her, "He's been through far worse, and still he's here."

"There's one thing about this whole mess that still bothers me," Jean said.

"What's that?" Face asked.

Jean took a card out of her pocket and showed it was Jocelyn Watkins' driver's license, "That damn broad wasn't _anywhere_ when we caught those people at the air base, she's still out there somewhere."

"Well you think she's a threat on her own?" Face asked.

"Could be," Jean said, "Maybe not back at the bar, but in her own environment I have no doubt just how deadly she could be. She's in this business just as much as all the others were, and she's one of the only ones left, so what's she going to do? She's not going to quit now, that much is obvious, it's like I told Murdock, no matter how many people you take out of this business, there'll always be more, you can't win against them."

"We can sure as hell try," Murdock replied.

* * *

In the end, B.A. had to carry Hannibal out to the van, and as Jean had suggested, they wound up taking the pillows with them because even in his sleep Hannibal wouldn't let go of them. They got him settled in the back and he slept during the whole trip back.

"Did the doctor say anything else?" Face asked during the drive back to Jean's house.

"He said that Hannibal's temperature was a little high but nothing worth worrying about, it's still under 100 degrees," she said, "All usual stuff, said for him to take it easy for the next few days, get plenty of rest, and to change that bandage regularly and keep it clean so he doesn't get an infection."

"I think we can agree that's the _last_ thing we need," Murdock said from where he sat in the backseat with Face, "As so this warning of the doctor's we shall heed."

Face turned and looked at Murdock, but the pilot didn't notice and kept talking, and Face noticed, he was starting to rhyme again. That was something else that hadn't happened since…since B.A. got shot and Murdock broke out for the blood transfusion, again, back when he was in the V.A. He was starting to wonder if maybe their trip out there today and the night before had done more harm than good. Then again, Murdock had been doing this stuff before they went there, but would he be worse now? It would be easier if he could just ask the pilot about these kinds of things but he knew that wasn't an option, especially not with the others around, but he wondered if maybe now that Hannibal was out of the woods, if now they were going to have their hands full with a problem involving Murdock instead.

When they got back to the house, B.A. carried Hannibal up to his room on the second floor and got him settled on the bed and it looked like he'd probably sleep through the rest of the afternoon. Once B.A. left the room, Jean jabbed Murdock in the shoulder and said, "Come on, let's get him undressed."

"Excuse me?" Face asked.

"He's going to sleep for a few hours, might as well get him comfortable," she said, "Besides, those pants are only suitable now for the garbage can, you can't patch up those holes worth a damn."

"I know _I_ can't," he replied.

"No she's right, Faceman, I'll help you," Murdock told Jean as they went over to the bed.

"Hey Murdock," Jean said as she slipped Hannibal's jacket off, "What do you call this kind of jacket he always wears anyway? I don't think I ever heard him say."

"I think it's what they call a safari jacket," Murdock said, "And safari so goodie."

Jean smirked in response to his joke and managed to wrestle Hannibal out of the sleeves and toss the jacket over a chair. In a couple of minutes they had Hannibal stripped down to his boxers and a T-shirt; Murdock checked the bandage and decided it wouldn't need to be changed for a while and they pulled the covers out from under him and back up over him instead.

"You know, he almost looks kind of cute this way," Jean said.

"What, when he's asleep?" Face asked.

"When his mouth is shut," she replied.

* * *

A couple hours later, Jean went back to Hannibal's room, pulled down the covers and changed the bandages. Hannibal opened his eyes halfway and looked up at her.

"Hello, Jean," he said tiredly.

"Hey Hannibal, how're you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm doing alright," Hannibal tried to sit up but only fell on his back and kicked his feet up in the air, he held his arm out and said, "Come over here so I can find you."

Jean went over to him and grabbed his hand; he put his weight against her and jerked her down onto the bed beside him. "That's better," he said.

Jean laughed and sat up, "Hannibal…"

"Just a minute, there's something I want to say to you," he told her as he turned on his side to see her.

"What's that?" she asked.

He looked at her and said, "I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier." Jean opened her mouth to talk but Hannibal cut her off, "I know I'm not the easiest person to deal with."

"That's an understatement," she told him.

"Anyway," he said, "I'm glad that you stuck around…I hate to say it but I do think we can benefit from having you as a friend."

She smiled sheepishly and replied, "Thanks."

"You're a good kid," Hannibal told her, "I don't remember if I told you that before or not."

"You did," she said.

"Oh good," he tiredly responded, and Jean could see he was about asleep again.

"Hannibal, I think I better go see how the others are doing," she said to him as she got up.

"Good idea," Hannibal turned on his stomach and pushed himself up on his elbows and knees as he said, his words slurring a bit, "Hello bed, it's Hannibal Smith, I'm coming in there," and he weakly laughed as he burrowed under the covers and went back to sleep.

Jean watched Hannibal for a minute and didn't notice anyone coming into the room, and then suddenly she felt Murdock wrap his arms around her waist and he told her, "He's right you know."

"About what?" she asked.

"We _are_ lucky to have you around," he nuzzled his cheek against hers and said, "I know I am."

"Not in front of him," Jean whispered as she pointed to Hannibal. Murdock let go of her and she turned around to see him and said, "You know I think I liked being married the most during the first week, when it was still a secret from everybody and we had to sneak around to do anything fun."

"Hey, now there's an idea," Murdock said as he got a mischievous look on his face.

"What're you thinking?" she asked.

Murdock grabbed her by the hand and led her out of the room as he told her, "You'll find out."

They left the room and went down the hall and Murdock led her into the bathroom, closed the door behind them with his foot, and grabbed Jean and lifted her over the side of the tub, stepped in beside her and pulled the shower curtain behind them.

"Hannibal's in bed, B.A.'s downstairs working on the van, Face is watching the game on TV, this is _one_ place in the whole house where I know nobody will be walking in on us," he said with a laugh as he kissed her.

"Well this is a new one, but it could be alright," Jean replied as she reached up and put her hands on his shoulders.

For as long as they'd been married and all the privacy they had previously had, they still kissed like a couple of teenagers on their first date; light, soft, awkward, both of them having fun the whole time. Suddenly however the fun came crashing down as a sudden burst of cold water rained down on them. They broke apart and looked at each other and looked up at the showerhead that was on and without either saying a word, plotted revenge over whoever had come into the room to bathe. With a scowl, Murdock pulled the curtain back slightly and saw Face standing by the sink in a robe, he pulled the curtain back into place and reached over to the soap dish and picked up the new white bar of soap and gripped it in his hand like he was a pitcher getting ready to throw the baseball. They stood under the now hot water in anticipation and when Face pulled the curtain back, Murdock swung forward and, taking Face completely by surprise, shoved the bar of soap directly into the lieutenant's mouth, then replaced the curtain.

* * *

Hannibal woke up when he felt his thick tongue and realized he was in dire need of a drink. He sat up and saw that the room was dark and for a minute he panicked, where was he? What was going on? What day was it? Then it started to come back to him, but he wondered how long he'd been asleep, and that was when he noticed the house was quiet, and he wondered where everybody was. He threw back the covers and made his way to the door, his leg giving him a little trouble and immediately upon standing he felt a spinning sensation in his head, but he pushed on and made his way out to the hall and saw a light from somewhere downstairs. He made his way down the stairs and when he entered the kitchen and saw B.A. he asked, "What time is it?"

"9:30 man, you' been asleep a long time."

"What time was it when we got home?" Hannibal asked as he went over to the sink and got a glass of water.

"About 1:30, yesterday afternoon," B.A. told him, and seeing the colonel's eyes widen he explained, "You slept through the better part of two days."

Not for the first time but it wasn't an experience he cared to relive anytime again in the near future. He swallowed half the glass's contents and lowered it from his mouth and asked, "Where're the others?"

"Don't know, they went out several hours ago and they ain't been back yet," B.A. answered.

"Hmmm," Hannibal considered what the possibilities for that could be, when they heard the front door open, "Well if that's not them now, then somebody's got the wrong house."

They went out to see what was going on and were surprised to see Face and Murdock come in out of the front hall, each standing on one side of Jean and seemed to be holding her up; her eyes were closed and her head was thrown as far back as was possible.

"You feeling alright, Jean?" Face asked.

Jean tilted her head forward and it slumped down and blood poured out of her mouth when she opened it to speak. Face reached over and pushed her bottom jaw up to close her mouth and said, "Definitely time to change the bandages again."

"What happened?" Hannibal asked.

The captain and the lieutenant looked and saw for the first time that they weren't the only ones in the room. Face answered as he took a small plastic cup out of his pocket, "This time Jean went to the dentist and _really_ had all four wisdom teeth taken out, a _real_ mess."

And speaking of messes, they watched as Murdock stuck his thumb and index finger into Jean's mouth and pulled out four bloody, folded pieces of gauze, took four new pieces of gauze out of the cup, folded them up and stuffed them one by one into the far back of her mouth to bite down on.

"How long were you guys down there?" Hannibal asked.

"About four hours," Face answered, "I'm exhausted."

"You are?" Murdock asked as they led Jean into the living room and had her lie down on the couch, "You weren't the one breathing in nitrous oxide for four hours to dull the sensation of that butcher cutting the teeth out of the gums." He turned to the colonel and said, "Hannibal you should've seen them they were this long," he held his fingers two inches apart, "And black in the middles."

"Yeah I'm really sorry I missed that, Murdock," Hannibal said unenthusiastically.

Jean tried talking but the words were muffled over the gauze. Hannibal went over to her, stuck his own fingers in her mouth and pulled the four gauze squares out and asked, "What'd you say?"

Jean opened her eyes to a slit and said tiredly, "Good thing I was the last person in, everybody else would've taken off running at all the screaming."

"Six shots of Novocain and she could still feel it," Face explained, "She kicked the dentist and bit his assistant twice. Somehow I get the feeling we won't be invited back there anytime soon."

"And now," Murdock said as he refolded the gauze and stuck them back in Jean's mouth, "They said to change the bandages every 15 minutes until the bleeding stops, they estimated about 2 hours."

Jean got out another muffled response as she bit down on the gauze.

"What?!" B.A. asked.

"She said," Murdock told him, "They gave her a list of instructions to follow for the next 24 hours, soft food only, nothing through a straw, take ibuprofen for the pain."

Nobody needed Murdock to interpret the sarcastic grunt that came from Jean at that one. For someone who used to swallow morphine pills all the time, Hannibal doubted that anything non-prescription would even touch the pain she'd be feeling once the gas wore off. But, it wouldn't do her any good in the long run to open that can of worms again, she was just going to have to tough it through the pain this time, and he could tell from the look on her face that she knew it. Already Hannibal could tell the next week was just going to be _loads _of fun, and rolled his eyes.

* * *

Fate must've been smiling down on them because the next morning Jean didn't seem to be feeling any pain. Unfortunately that was overshadowed by the fact that she was heavily down in the mouth due to the doctor's soft food only rule, apparently soft foods were a rarity where the contents of the refrigerator were concerned. Hannibal had gone to the store to get a few things that she'd be able to chew and that he knew everyone else would eat too, but found out after the fact that she wouldn't eat any of them. While the others ate she sat at the table with them, a permanent scowl on her face and one hand balled up against one still slightly swollen and bruised cheek. Hannibal had already had her open her mouth so he could see the damage and he found that both sets of gums were swollen and discolored purple and black from bruising, and he guessed they would stay that way for several weeks while she recovered.

The phone rang and Hannibal offered to get it, while he was gone Jean picked up her glass of milk and commented to Murdock jokingly in a bad Red Skelton, "You can tell he's going to be on this show a long time," and promptly poured the contents of the glass into a potted plant on the counter next to the table.

"Just a minute," Hannibal covered the mouthpiece and called to Jean, "It's the studio, they want to know if you can come down for another audition."

"What?" Jean asked as she got up from the table and took the phone from him, "Hello?"

"Hannibal, she won't pass any audition like she is," Face told him, "Her whole face is swollen from the nose down and you can hardly understand half of what she says."

"I know it," Hannibal replied as he took out an already unwrapped cigar and lit it, "But maybe she'll get lucky and that'll be just what they're looking for."

Jean hung up the phone and suddenly found four sets of eyes trained on her. "What?"

"What'd they say?" Hannibal asked.

"I have an audition at 11 this morning," she said, "They didn't specify what I'll be doing," she looked down at Murdock and said, "I may need to take my lovely assistant down with me again."

Murdock laughed and said, "Sure thing, Saint, I'll go down with ya."

"I still say she won't get it," Face told Hannibal once breakfast was over and they'd left the room, "Right now she looks like a black and blue jack-o-lantern."

"True," Hannibal replied, "But just think what wonders it did for Mel Gibson. Who knows? She's supposed to be playing a crazy soldier, maybe they're specifically looking for freaks."

* * *

Jean managed to get out the front door and storm off a few feet before fatigue won her over and she practically fell to her knees. Murdock came running up behind her and helped her back to her feet.

"I sure blew that one," she said, still full of rage and wanting somebody to take it out on but coming up empty.

"You don't know that," Murdock said, "They could still call you."

"Call me? Why would they? I kept falling over my lines and half the time I didn't even say anything," she replied, "Of all the days to have those damn wisdom teeth taken out, _why_ did it have to be yesterday?"

"Could be worse," Murdock told her, "It could've been _today_."

Jean spun around and hit her head against a palm tree that was growing on the studio property. "I really could've used this job, Murdock, the word going around the rumor mill is the pay is $2000 a week, and this isn't going to be some six-day shoot either, you know what that means?"

"That you'd be making as much _now_ as Buster Keaton back in 1926," Murdock answered.

They heard somebody coming up to them and turned to see one of the men who had been present for Jean's audition and he said, "I'm glad I caught you before you left. We want you to come back in and do the audition again."

"And do what differently?" Jean asked.

The man looked surprised, "Nothing, we want you to do it again exactly as you did before."

Jean and Murdock looked at each other as if _this_ guy was nuts and she asked him, "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Boy I'll _never_ figure out how these auditions work," Murdock commented as he went with her back into the building, "You audition once and they want to see the exact same thing again a second time when they didn't respond to it the first time?"

They returned to the same room which was overcrowded with about a hundred people all sitting down watching the other side of the room where the people auditioning had done their performances. Murdock hadn't been needed for Jean's improvisation this go around because they had two men who were already cast for the film for the actors to go through their lines with; so Murdock sat down alongside the studio zombies and watched as Jean returned to the other side of the room and went through the exact same performance she had 15 minutes ago, half the time not even saying anything, only leering at her would-be costars and grunting and groaning.

There were few props used during the audition but as the two men talked, Jean made a show of going around knocking on the table and kicking its legs before moving over to the men and pestering them by constantly jabbing them in the shoulder or the back of the head and in the middle of their conversation she kicked one of them in the rear. He turned around and she latched her hands onto his throat and then wrapped her arm around his neck as if she was going to snap it like a twig. They struggled and both were grunting but Jean forced him down until he was sprawled out on the floor and not moving. The second man came in and Jean kicked him where it hurt and as he doubled over she grabbed a fistful of his hair and grabbed his jacket and shoved him up against the wall and then knocked him to the floor as well. Of course Murdock knew, as he knew from 30-some years of watching movies, that it was all faked but the important thing was making it look real and that's what Jean was doing here, she was so convincing it was like they'd never left that bar at the state line.

He had been present when the first audition ended and there hadn't been a single audible or visual response from any one of the hundred spectators passing judgment on the actors, so he was just as surprised as Jean was when this time everybody started whooping and applauding.

"What the hell's going on around here?" Jean asked.

The same man that had chased after them outside the studio came over and shook her hand and told her, "That was brilliant."

Jean looked at him still dumbfounded and asked him, "Does that mean I _get_ the job?"

He laughed and told her, "Yes, you were the best we saw all day."

Jean was tempted to ask why then they didn't do anything the first time and save everybody the time and trouble but she decided she didn't want to know the answer.

"So when do I come in to shoot?" she asked.

"Oh we'll call you," he told her.

"Uh-huh, I've heard that one before," she replied.

Murdock came over to her applauding and said, "Jean, that was fantastic."

"Who is this?" the man asked her.

"This is…" Jean stopped and then told him, "This is my husband, he's recently started work as a stunt pilot, now I understand that there are going to be choppers used in this movie?"

"Of course there's choppers, there's always choppers in these kinds of films."

"Alright," Jean said, "Then you'll want him too."

The man, who Jean still didn't know who he was or what his primary function in this place was, turned and looked at the back of Murdock's jacket and said, "Da Nang, now that's interesting."

"What is?" Murdock asked.

"The script is being rewritten and…"

"Rewritten _before_ you start shooting?" Jean asked.

He turned to her and asked, "You know a better time to do it? Anyway," he turned back to Murdock, "Our writers are including a flashback scene that takes place at the NSA station hospital."

Jean noted a change in Murdock's eyes when the man said that, but when asked if he could fly one of _those_ choppers, he answered, sounding a bit numbed, "Yes, I could do that."

Once they left the studio, Jean got up close to Murdock and asked him, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he answered as he walked on.

"Murdock," Jean ran to catch up with him, "_Were_ you…"

He caught on to her question before she could ask it and he shook his head, "No, I didn't handle those pickups and drop offs for the hospital."

Jean just nodded her head and said, "Then…you think you'll be able to fly the choppers?"

"Sure, I can fly anything," Murdock assured her.

"Great, then we're both in business," she said.

"Terrific," Murdock checked his watch and said, "Then I move our first order of business is to find someplace to eat and get some lunch."

Jean was less enthusiastic and pursed her lips so tightly together she about swallowed them completely.

* * *

The next day Hannibal woke up and found himself the only well person in a house full of sick people, and he quickly found out that everybody was sick with something different. B.A. was groaning and complaining of a weight pressing against his gut and Hannibal quickly found out had to be put back in bed because of sudden dizzy spells that left the sergeant on the floor after the impact shook the whole room. Face complained of being cold and couldn't eat anything because of a bad stomach. Murdock seemed to be the most well off, or at least he acted as such, he had no actual complaints but he was running a fever, and Jean seemed to take the cake, she was violently ill and couldn't even drink anything because of a throat full of razor blades that pricked every time she breathed, never mind swallowed.

Hannibal realized that he was the only one available to take care of four sick people and quickly put a plan together to actually pull it off. He had B.A. get out of bed long enough to help him move the bed from his room into Face's room; both were double beds and he decided it would be better to put everyone in the same room so he could keep a better eye on them. B.A. and Face were stuck bunking together in one bed and Murdock and Jean were put in the other, and nobody was pleased with the conditions, all of them groaning in unison more than usual.

Making a quick call to Bad Rock for some advice, Hannibal asked Maggie about any current bugs going around and found that a lot of people were coming down with different things but most of them seemed to be short lived with only a 24-hour lifespan. Thank God for small favors. When everybody seemed to be resting at the same time, he took that opportunity to make a run to the drugstore and pick up some things he figured they'd be needing for the next day. He got back in record time and climbed the stairs two at a time to see if anything had happened while he was gone.

Face was the one currently occupying the bathroom to be sick in private, but Hannibal let himself in and ripped the seal off a bottle of medicine he'd picked up at the store. He told Face that it was something new that was supposed to cure upset stomachs, and he convinced the lieutenant to take a dose of it, but immediately after he swallowed it he lost it all over again. Hannibal stayed with him until the heaving passed and then helped him back to bed. Face was still complaining about being cold and Hannibal found out why; with him sharing a bed with B.A., the larger man was taking up most of the covers and Face was getting short sheeted, literally. Hannibal dug around in one of the closets and found some extra bedding and returned and covered the lieutenant with an extra sheet and two flannel blankets, figuring it was safe since Face wasn't running a fever.

"That better?" he asked.

Over his chattering teeth, Face grunted something that Hannibal took as a yes. B.A. was dead to the world so Hannibal went over to the next bed and asked how they were doing. Jean angrily waved him off and Murdock coughed and answered, "I'm doing alright, Colonel."

Hannibal had Murdock comply with another temperature reading and saw that he was still at 101 degrees; he took the wet rag off Murdock's forehead, soaked it and reapplied it. He had a feeling if Jean didn't have to lay flat on her back to try and hold off another bout of nausea as long as possible, she would've rolled over and buried her head under the pillows to avoid having to deal with him.

"Do you need anything?" he asked her.

She opened her eyes the slightest bit and glared at him like a cat about to bite. He smiled and said, "Alright, I'll let you rest, if you need anything I'm sure I'll hear you."

He didn't have to wait long to hear anything. Everything had been quiet for a couple of hours and Hannibal took that as a good sign, but then he heard a crashing noise coming from the bathroom and he ran in to see what was the matter. Apparently the problem was that Jean had gotten out of bed and resided herself to stay on the bathroom floor, and Murdock hadn't been aware of it and tripped over his wife when he went in to get a glass of water. Murdock seemed to be alright, in spite of hitting his head against the tub, but Jean was on the floor moaning and groaning since she was in no condition to scream. Hannibal grabbed her to help her up but immediately let go of her when he felt how dry and rugged her hands had suddenly become.

"Jean, haven't you had _anything_ to drink today?" he asked.

Murdock felt her other hand and cringed, Jean was so dehydrated that her hands felt like fish scales.

Hannibal knew that regular water against a raw throat wouldn't do too many favors for Jean so he got a can of ginger beer from the kitchen, grabbed a second one for Face, and tried to get her to drink it but Jean refused; she pursed her lips together and grunted as she shook her head.

"Jean, you have to drink _something_," Hannibal told her.

Jean just shook her head again.

"I know, I know," he replied in an agitated voice, "You don't throw up if you don't drink anything, but if you don't I'm going to personally put you in the hospital, you'll wind up there anyway, the dehydration will do a worse number on you than throwing up will."

He had to have Murdock help him but they finally managed to get her to swallow a little of the soda. But immediately after she drank it, Jean got sick again. Murdock stood over her and rubbed her back until the fit of nausea passed and she was able to stand up to rinse her mouth out.

"Try it again," Hannibal said as he handed her the can.

Jean shook her head, "I'm _not_ drinking that stuff again, it's horrible."

"What?" Hannibal looked at the open can and the one he'd brought up for Face, he cracked open the second can and tasted it himself, and immediately looked like he'd bitten into a lemon. "I see what you mean," he said, "I thought this stuff was the same as ginger ale."

Though it pained her to talk, Jean replied, "Shows what you get for thinking."

* * *

Murdock had gone back to bed but Jean was content to stay on the floor in the bathroom until the next day; Hannibal had stayed with her and sat on the floor with her head in his lap as she went from burning hot to shivering cold and back to hot again. He tried to get her to keep drinking but unfortunately more of it came back up than stayed down. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms to combat the gooseflesh that had built up, and as he did he noticed something.

"Hey Jean, didn't you get a smallpox vaccination when you joined the army?" he asked, noting the lack of an injection site on either arm.

Jean shook her head and in a voice so weak he almost couldn't hear it she explained, "I got lucky, I knew I wouldn't be there long, so I managed to sidestep most of the shots, nobody ever knew." She opened her eyes and looked up at him as she explained, "I can't take shots, they only make me sicker than whatever they're supposed to shield me against."

"Ah, you're one of _those_ people," he said.

"Yeah," she answered weakly, "I was a kid, my parents got me a chickenpox shot, made me so sick I about died and _then_ on top of it I still got the chickenpox, 300 poxes all over my 3 year old body, you tell me what good that did."

Hannibal looked her over and noted, "Don't see any scars."

"Not where _you_ can see," she replied.

He chuckled, and asked her, "How're you feeling, kid?"

She groaned and answered, "Shoot me, Hannibal, just shoot me, just please kill me."

"Uh-uh-uh," he clicked his tongue at her, "You haven't been married long enough to be talking like that." He looked at his watch and told her, "Come on, kid, let's get you back into bed."

"No," she said quietly, "I just want to stay here…"

"The floor isn't going to be comfortable all night," he told her as he helped her up, "Murdock's got your side of the bed all nice and cold just like you like it, come on, it'll be okay."

By this time it was already starting to get dark out, and no lights were on in the room. Murdock had been lying in bed but he hadn't been asleep; when he saw Hannibal escorting Jean back into the room, he reached over and grabbed the covers and pulled them down for her. Hannibal helped Jean into the bed and pulled the sheets up on her and asked Murdock, "How're you holding up, Captain?"

"Fine, Colonel."

"Uh-huh," Hannibal went over to the other bed to check on the others. B.A. was still out cold and Face looked about there as well, his stomach had quit giving him trouble early on in the afternoon. Hannibal pulled the covers up on Face and asked them, "You boys need anything?"

Face shook his head and got out a quiet, "No," and B.A. just grunted and shook his head as well. Hannibal went back to Murdock's bed and asked if they needed anything, and got the same response.

Once he was gone, Murdock looked over at Jean, who had her eyes squeezed shut and two half dried streaks of tears running down her face from being sick. Murdock peeled the washcloth off his forehead, dipped it in the bowl of ice water on the nightstand, wrung it out and used it to wash Jean's face and eyes, then he put the rag back in the bowl and reached over to her side of the bed to hug her. She pushed against him and quietly said to him, "Don't kiss me," which he only took as a sign to relocate it elsewhere, so he kissed her on the top of her head.

"How're you feeling?" he asked her.

"Awful," she answered.

Murdock nodded sympathetically and told her, "If it is just a 24 hour thing, it shouldn't be much longer now."

"Good," she replied, "As soon as I can find my equilibrium again, I need to get a shower."

He smiled at her and said, "You and me both."

* * *

The next day everybody was back to their normal, or as close to normal as they came, selves. B.A. and Face had gone down to the kitchen to make up for the meals they missed out on the day before, and as soon as Jean got up she drank six glasses of water from the bathroom faucet before getting cleaned up. Then when she was done, Murdock went in and got a shower, finding the water already adjusted so it was cool; that was one thing they'd found they could agree on as a married couple.

The subject of clean was a relative one and there were many different meanings to it and many different ways to go about it; this Murdock knew very well, and he was surprised that Jean had come to the same conclusion on personal cleanliness as he did. People often equated hot water with being clean, but that was a different kind of clean, a sterile clean, like a hospital; borderline cold water was a refreshing kind of clean instead, and that was the kind he preferred, and as it turned out, that she preferred too. She'd told him that was one advantage to moving out of New York and out to California, in a relatively warmer climate hot showers were not as much a necessity in the winter.

He turned the water off and reached through the curtain to the towel rack and pulled off one that could've covered a newborn whale, he got wrapped up in it and pulled the curtain back and stepped out and realized Jean was in the bathroom, spitting a mouth full of blue mint mouthwash down the sink's drain.

"You're looking better today," he noted.

Jean looked up and saw his reflection in the mirror and replied, "So are you." She turned and looked at him and laughed.

"What is it?" Murdock asked, looking down to make sure his towel was still holding.

"You," Jean said as she went over to him, "I just can't get over how…how…"

"How what?" he asked.

"How pale you are," Jean said as she squeezed his shoulder and told him, "Oh boy, Murdock, you've got to get out in the sun more often."

"I'm working on it," he told her, "Hey Saint, you feel up to doing something today?"

"Sure, what?" she asked.

"Well I don't know, you said once everything was taken care of we'd have some fun before we both wound up single again. Well, Decker's in the hospital so he can't come after us, the phony Decker is going to rot away in prison for the rest of his life, and we both have improved vastly from our condition yesterday as two walking corpses. I think after all that a little fun is in order."

Jean smiled in anticipation and asked him, "What'd you have in mind?"


	15. Chapter 15

Jean hung up the phone and told Murdock as he entered the kitchen, "If you're up for a sudden change in plans, I've got a little detour for us to take before we head out to the hotel."

"Sure, what is it?" he asked.

"Oh you'll see," she replied with a small mischievous smirk on her face.

Murdock grinned in anticipation and asked, "Do I still get to drive us there?"

"Sure, I'll tell you where," Jean said as they headed out the door.

They had been fortunate enough to have most of the house to themselves that morning; Hannibal left to resurrect his film career as the Aquamaniac and B.A. had said something about having important business to take care of, leaving only Face at the house and he was consulting an dog-eared mark in his little black book. They stepped over the side of Jean's convertible and Murdock got them out of there and followed the streets according to Jean's directions.

"So what do you think B.A. was talking about when he said important business?" Jean asked during the drive.

"Probably the daycare center he works at," Murdock answered nonchalantly as he skidded the car into a sharp left turn.

Jean looked at him and asked, "B.A. works at a _daycare_ center?"

"Yeah well…" Murdock caught the weird look on her face and said, "Not like what you're thinking probably."

"Oh," she looked relieved.

"He works with the older kids, he's like a big brother to them, fixes things for them and teaches them how to do stuff," Murdock explained.

"Funny," Jean replied, "I'd think any kid would take one look at him and take off running."

Murdock laughed and said, "I think he usually only has that effect on grown people, kids aren't fooled by that long face of his, they know he's harmless."

"Murdock," Jean pointed at her eye and said, "That mudsucker is anything _but_, you _know_ he's got a killer instinct in him, just like all of us do."

Murdock nodded and agreed, "I know he does, but for the most part he's good to only bust up _things_ instead of people's faces."

They didn't say anything after that for the next few minutes, then when Murdock realized where they were heading he told Jean, "That's an airport up ahead."

"I know it is," she said, and pointed as she explained, "These aren't commercial jetliners, they're planes people rent for an afternoon of just cruising around for a couple of hours of fun."

"So what're we doing out here?" Murdock asked her.

She turned to him with a Cheshire cat smile on her face as she answered, "I rented a plane for you."

"What?!" Murdock couldn't believe what he'd heard and stomped on the brakes to avoid driving into anything as a result of his shock.

Jean nodded and said, "A couple days ago I came out here and made an arrangement with the owner of one of the planes, I gave him the money to rent it for an afternoon, no questions asked, so long as it's back before dark and in the same shape it's in now."

Murdock couldn't hold still and he couldn't focus his eyes on one thing either; he kept looking from his wife to the airport ahead and back to her again and finally asked, "Why'd you do that?"

Jean looked down and said, "Well I know that you were a Thunderbird before anything else, and I know when you have to fly on missions it's pretty much business only, no room to do with those planes what you do best, I figured this way you'd have a chance to try all the tricks that you learned back then. These planes aren't anywhere near up to par with the ones you flew in the Air Force, but they're good for some of the work, aren't they?"

Murdock smiled at her and was at a loss of words for a minute. Then he reached over to the other side of the car, grabbed her and kissed her and said, "It'll be perfect, you _are_ coming with me, aren't you?"

"Sure," she replied, "Why not?"

Murdock laughed in anticipation and squeezed Jean against him in a tight hug and said, "I can't believe you pulled this off without my knowing."

"Yeah well," Jean said less than enthusiastically, "That's me, just _full_ of surprises."

They got out of the car and got in past the gate; Jean showed Murdock the small two-seat plane and he walking alongside the aircraft with his hands feeling the side of it and made a bunch of noises under his throat like he was in love.

"Come on, Murdock," Jean told him, "We've only got it for the afternoon."

Murdock went around the plane and conducted a quick exam of it and then checked out the cockpit and determined that everything was satisfactory. Jean got in on the other side and Murdock reached over and made sure she was strapped in as he called it, "Right and tight, darling, you're gonna need it when the whole plane goes upside down." He noticed that Jean didn't seem to be paying attention to him and he asked her, "Everything alright, hon?"

She turned and looked at him and said, "Yeah, fine."

He smiled at her and squeezed her hand assuredly and told her, "You got nothing to worry about flying Murdock Airlines, you know that don't you?" She nodded but he could see her throat bobbing as she swallowed heavily. Jean had never had any intention of going on this flight with him, but she was going with him now and that meant more to him than she would probably ever realize. He leaned over to her and told her confidentially, "If things start looking nasty, just close your eyes, it ain't as bad when you can't see what's going on…that's what _I_ do when the view starts to lose its appeal."

That managed to crack a smile out of her and that was good enough for him. "Just sit tight, Saint, I'll have us airborne in no time and then it'll be smooth sailing," he told her.

"Yeah I hope so, Murdock," she replied.

* * *

After three hours in the air, Murdock decided it was time to take the plane back down for a landing; he doubled back around the way they originally came and found the airport and brought the plane down steadily. They felt the wheels touch down against the landing strip and the plane jerked and dragged along a few yards before coming to a final stop.

"Well, here we are!" he announced.

Jean brought her hands down from the sides of her head, opened her eyes and asked, "Are we dead yet?" and looked around.

Murdock laughed and said, "I told you we'd be alright, you didn't listen to me."

"Murdock," Jean said as she undid her straps, "I have the fullest of confidences in _you_, it's the _plane_ I have my doubts about."

He howled in laughter as he reached over and grabbed her, "I had a great time today, and I'm glad that you came with me."

She smiled and said, "I figured it was something you wouldn't be able to talk any of the others into."

Murdock laughed and replied, "Yeah, probably not."

Jean pulled the watch out of Murdock's jacket pocket and said, "The rest of the afternoon is shot."

"Yeah," he agreed, "We should probably head on back to the house." He noted the minor look of disappointment on her face as she realized their previous plans for the day had just been canceled. He leaned over and kissed her and said with a knowing grin on his face, "Don't worry, hon, where there's a crazy mind there is always a second door to look behind, I have a good idea we can get out of the house tonight without anybody bothering us, then we're _really_ going to have some fun."

Jean smiled in anticipation and asked him, "What time should we leave?"

"Well it's getting dark a lot earlier now than it was before," he said, "So I say we leave around 8 and if anybody asks," he shrugged, "We just tell them that we're going to a movie."

"Think they'll buy that?" she asked.

"Sure, I saw at this one theater they're having some kind of 'England comes to Los Angeles' marathon, a whole night of old movies with some old woman, uh…old something Riley, supposed to be a real _kick_."

"Well if we have time when we get back, we might have to check it out," Jean agreed, "It's been a long time since I saw a good movie."

* * *

Murdock had been in and out of the V.A. so many times over the years that he could still find the way to his room from the grounds like the back of his hand. Working under the cover of darkness, they managed to remove the screen from the window and lift it up; surprisingly there wasn't any alarm even though the power was still on in the building. However no alarm needed to sound because Crane was awake and alert and already reaching for his gun before he realized who was entering the room. Decker was in the bed, looking far better now than the last time they saw him, and both people noted he also looked annoyed at this sudden company.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" he asked.

"He must be feeling better," Murdock commented to Jean, "He's back to his old self already."

"So noted," Jean replied, and addressing Decker as they approached the bed she added, "We just came to see how the patient was feeling."

"None of your damn business," Decker answered as he batted her hand away when she tried to touch him.

"I see he still hasn't gotten the hang of acting like a civilized member of society," Jean commented to Crane, then back to Decker she added, "We just came to drop off a little get-well present for you."

"Oh really?" Decker asked suspiciously, "And what would that be?"

Murdock reached into the pocket on his jacket and took something out and dropped it into Decker's hand. Decker looked at the item dropped in his palm and felt a piece of material that the Army's jackets were made of and he recognized the pentagon of stars and brass eagle on the green material as being that of a General's insignia.

"What is this?" he asked.

"A token of our regards," Murdock answered, "It is also the only thing remaining of General Bullen's uniform."

"What?" Decker looked up at the pilot in disbelief.

Murdock nodded with a big grin and explained, "He had an unfortunate mishap, his General's uniform was horribly burnt up accidentally when we purposely set it on fire. We thought you'd like a little memento to remember your superior's brass by."

"That's right," Jean added, "He can chew you out all he wants for letting the A-Team get away, but he ain't gonna have anything to wear when he shows up for the occasion, and the best part is he was out when we paid his home a visit so he doesn't know it yet. Just wait till he tries coming down to your office in _person_ without a uniform."

Decker looked down at the patch of stars and slapped himself in the forehead as he tried to take in what he'd just been told. "This is ridiculous," he grumbled under his breath.

"Of _course_ it's ridiculous," Murdock said, "It was the work of an A-1 crazy person!" he pointed to himself, "They don't come any better than that."

"I could have you both _shot_ for this," Decker told them.

"Yeah but you can't," Jean said.

"But _he_ could," Decker pointed at Crane.

"But he _won't_," Murdock replied.

"How do you know?" Decker asked.

"Because you're enjoying this too much," Jean answered, "Admit it, Roddy."

Of course he wouldn't admit it, but they could tell all the same.

"Sorry we can't stay but I gotta take Billy for a walk," Murdock said as he opened the window up and stepped out, "Come on, Saint."

"See ya round, Decker," Jean waved as she followed her husband out the window, "Enjoy it while it lasts!"

She slammed the window down behind her and they took off running for her car, laughing the entire way. They got in and Murdock drove them out of there and back into town and to the local theater to get in on the next movie before it started. On the way they realized that it was starting to rain, but it was just a light drizzle and aside from putting the top up on the car they didn't pay it any mind. They reached the theater, got their tickets, popcorn, soda and half a dozen boxes of candy at Murdock's insistence, and found their way to the right movie room, and sat through three movies introducing them to the comic genius of the actor Arthur Lucan as a spindly old Irish woman, Old Mother Riley, though Murdock was sold as a fan before the end of the first movie they saw.

When the last movie ran out, they left the theater and ran to get in the car before they got soaked from the rain and Murdock drove them back to the house.

"Man that was great," he said, "You know, Hannibal should've been there to see that, I'll just bet you he could do something like that in the next movie he's in."

"Oh Hannibal has entirely the wrong build to play a little old Irish woman like that," Jean told him.

"Yes, but he's got he Irish accent down pat, it would be a cinch for him," Murdock replied.

"How do you know?" Jean asked.

"From experience, me dear," Murdock replied in an equally Irish accent, giving it a slightly high pitch in an attempt to feminize it.

Jean threw her head back laughing at his response.

They returned to the house and saw that the lights were already out; they went up the stairs leading to the storage room and quietly let themselves in.

"Hey Saint," Murdock said, "How come you never do anything with this room? I mean it's nice and big, you ought to use it for something."

"I'm working on it," she replied, "What time is it?"

"Uh…" Murdock found the light switch and threw it so he could see his watch and answered, "Going on 1 o' clock."

"Come on, let's go to bed," she said.

Murdock grinned and replied, "Right behind you, dear."

* * *

Hannibal shot up in bed and tried to figure out where the machine gunfire was coming from so he could get out of the way, but after a few seconds he realized that what he was hearing was rolling thunder from the storm outside. Upon realizing this, he fell back against the pillows and let out a sigh of relief as he waited for his heart to stop doing jumping jacks. He listened to the thunder outside and realized that for as old as he was, it didn't sound like _any_ thunder he'd ever heard in _any_ storm. No, the more he thought about it, instead it sounded like having stereo speakers next to his head as they amplified the noise of a hundred galvanized trashcans being thrown down the stairs. He sat up in bed and pushed back the covers, what the hell was going on?

He went over to the window and pulled back the venetian blind and looked out as lightning flashed and lit up the outside. As far as he could tell, nothing looked out of place, so he took that as meaning it _had_ to just be thunder, but something had to be wrong if for the first time in over 45 years, mere thunder had the ability to scare him again like it did when he was a kid. He'd been woken up in the middle of the night by crashing booms before, but this wasn't anything like that. Then he realized that if _he_ was about to have a fit from the noise, then the others had to be up as well and he could only imagine what was going through their minds, and he decided to check on the others and make sure everyone was alright.

So far so good he noted as he stepped out into the hall and didn't hear anything from the other rooms. First he opened the door to Face's room and peered in, and he couldn't believe it, the lieutenant was actually _asleep_! Just _how_ Face was able to sleep through that racket was beyond Hannibal, he pulled the door shut and felt his heart still pounding against his chest.

"Hannibal, what's going on?" he turned on his heel and saw Murdock and Jean standing in the doorway to their room. Apparently the noise had gotten both of them out of bed, they stood alongside each other, Murdock dressed in a set of Jetsons pajamas, and Jean in a long blue nightshirt; and even though it was dark he could see Jean breathing heavily, apparently he wasn't the _only_ one who had been so rudely awakened by the thunder.

"Nothing," he answered as he went over to them, "Just a thunderstorm."

"Didn't sound like thunder to us," Jean said.

Murdock shook his head in agreement, "I said it sounded more like somebody knocking on the door with a cannon ball."

"I know," he said, "Are you guys alright?"

Jean was still doing some light huffing and puffing but she nodded and said, "We're fine."

"Good…did either of you happen to see what time it is?" Hannibal asked.

"About three o' clock," Murdock answered.

"Oh brother," he replied, "We might as well go back to bed."

"Sure, but who's gonna sleep?" Jean asked.

All the same, Hannibal returned to his room, and they returned to theirs and closed the door behind them, and made a mad dash back to the bed and jumped in and pulled the covers up. Jean slid her hands under the sheets and felt the goose pimples on her legs and said with a shiver, "Didn't sound like _no_ thunder to me."

"I know," Murdock replied, "Tomorrow we'll check and see if anything's damaged, but for now I say we go back to bed."

"Easy for you to say," she told him, "Murdock…"

"Yah?"

"It's almost Halloween."

"…True?" Murdock asked, not knowing what that was supposed to mean.

"Alright, so do you think there's any truth to what they say about that being the day that the dead come back to walk the earth?" she asked him.

Murdock turned over to see her and asked, "Something on your mind?"

"An honest question," she said, "Do you think the dead return?"

Murdock tried to figure out where she was coming from on this question and he thought he hit on the answer, it was a subject that hadn't been brought up for well over a year, "The other Jean Rhodes? All of those guys that were buried at the base?"

She didn't answer, only looked at him through one eye, and that was all the answer he needed. He sat up in the bed and looked at her as he said, "One fact is indisputable, energy can't die, it can't just disappear, so when people die their life energy leaves their bodies, but it remains somewhere, now where it does and what becomes of it, nobody knows…do ghosts exist? Yes, definitely, but they don't need a special occasion to come back to the realm of their deaths. Now, most of them are perfectly harmless, then there are other stories altogether, poltergeists for example, they love to make noise and they love to make trouble for the living."

"Murdock," Jean tried to get a word in.

"Hold on, there's a reason I'm taking the long way around on this," he told her, "It's a little known fact that most ghosts exist due to that little gray area of unfinished business, most of them either aren't aware that they are dead because their deaths were so sudden and unforeseen, or they remain because they want their deaths solved, when they're murdered they want the person responsible caught and punished for what they've done. That said, all those men that you saw killed that night, they know that their murderers were brought to justice; the justice of finality and fatality, their murderers are dead now as well, so if there _was_ any reason for them to remain in the realm of the living, it went away when their killers were killed. Believe me, you've got nothing to worry about on that one."

"How can you be so sure?" Jean asked him, "For that matter, how do you know all that?"

He smiled at her and said, "Remember you gave me that Bible to keep the Ouija board quiet? Well you'd be surprised the conversations you can have with a board when it's free to speak."

"Yeah? Well I still think I'll pass on that one," she told him as she laid down beside him and pulled the covers up tighter, "Goodnight, Murdock."

He let out a loud yawn and replied as he closed his eyes, "Goodnight, Jean."

* * *

The next few days passed quickly and were spent by Murdock and his wife as though they were a couple of teenagers out for spring break. One day when a heat wave hit the city, they loaded up her car and went to the beach where true to his word, Murdock tried to get some sun in his skin, and he also decided to take up a new hobby: surfing, which quickly turned into a big disaster and was forgotten as quickly as it was picked up, and instead they spent the day swimming, laying on the sand, and on occasion, yelling 'shark' to some poor sap out in the water to see the response they could get.

Another day, Face had a date cancel on him and on his way back he spotted Jean's car and followed them to an amusement park, and the three decided since they were already together, they might as well make the most of it. By the time they got home Face was dizzy, nauseous, and couldn't stand up, and explained to Hannibal and B.A. that the three of them had been on the Zipper ride for half an hour solid. That hadn't been so bad but then they had decided to try a roller coaster and Face told B.A., "If you think flying with Murdock is bad, just try going on one of those."

By the fourth night, Hannibal found himself laying awake in bed, restless, a lot of things running through his mind and he knew that if he didn't do something about them soon, he'd never get any sleep. He looked at the clock on the nightstand and saw that it was 12:30, he figured it was still early enough that Murdock and Jean would still be awake. He went down the hallway to their room and knocked on the door, but there was no response. He opened the door, went in and threw on the lights and saw that the bed hadn't even been slept in. He went over to the window that overlooked the driveway and saw that Jean's car was gone.

Logically Hannibal knew that Murdock and Jean were two adults who could do whatever they wanted at any time of the day that they wanted, and that was probably what they were doing right now, but something didn't set well with him. He went over to Face's room and got the lieutenant up and told him to get dressed and meet him downstairs. Then he went downstairs, got B.A. up and told him the same thing. Within a few minutes the sergeant and the lieutenant were in the living room with him and demanding to know what was going on.

"Murdock and Jean are gone, her car's gone so we can probably figure that wherever they are they went together, but the question is where? Did anybody know they were going out tonight?"

"Nah man," B.A. answered, "They never said anything to me."

"Me either," Face shook his head, "Where do you think they _would_ go?"

"I don't know, I…" Hannibal stopped in mid-pace and got a different look on his face, "I think I know where they went."

"Where?" Face asked.

Hannibal went over to him and said, "Face, you've mentioned that you noticed Murdock seemingly reverting back to his same behavior tactics from when he was staying at the V.A., right?"

"Right, so what?"

"Stuff that he really _hasn't_ done since he got out, right?" Hannibal asked, "Getting up at 3 in the morning to watch the Range Rider and pretending to be a dog, stuff like that?"

Face nodded, "Yeah."

"Alright, I want you to think, Face, what is something that Murdock had when he was _in_ the V.A. that he might be missing now that he's been released?" Hannibal asked.

Face wracked his brain trying to come up with that answer. Something he had _at_ the V.A.? That could've been anything, he still couldn't figure out how Murdock got _half_ the stuff he had in his room.

That was when it hit him, and Hannibal saw the look on his face when it did, but instead of letting the lieutenant explain, he took it upon himself and continued talking, "When Murdock left the V.A., he packed up everything he could carry and left behind everything that was too big for him to bring."

"Those arcade games!" Face realized, "He wasn't able to take them out when he left."

"That's right," Hannibal said, "Now, you know as well as I do that for as well as we know Murdock, 3 months without his games has to be driving him crazy, if you'll excuse the bad joke."

"Right but Hannibal, at this time of night?" Face asked.

Hannibal went over to the table in the dining room and told Face, "I saw something in the newspaper about a new hotel that's just gone into business," he dug through the papers on the table and found the one he was looking for and unfolded it, "It had its grand opening a few days ago, and one of the big things they're advertising as a selling point is the hotel's game room, which they promise is filled to the brim with all the latest arcade games."

"And a hotel's open 24/7," Face realized as he looked over the newspaper article, "You think that's where Murdock went?"

"It's as good of a place to start as any," Hannibal answered, "We'll take the van and check it out, B.A., you coming with us?"

"Nah, if the fool comes back while you' out, then I'll get in touch with you on the phone," B.A. told him.

"Alright then," Hannibal turned to Face, "It's just you and me, come on."

"Oh joy," Face dryly murmured as he followed behind Hannibal.

* * *

The minute they entered the hotel they were blinded by all the bright lights compared to the vast darkness of the world outside. Hannibal went to the front desk and asked if two people had checked in who matched the descriptions he gave of Murdock and Jean. The clerk took out the sign-in book and Hannibal looked over the names of people who had checked in that night and didn't find any matching Murdock's writing. Unfortunately he didn't know Jean's well enough to compare it to the signatures, so Hannibal asked where the game room was, and when they got an answer they took off to see if their crazy pilot was there.

For the hotel only being open a few days the place had to already be booked up because they had to push their way past a couple dozen people just to enter the room and after that they saw the room was filled with so many people at the large electronic games as well as spread out at all the tables, that they might as well have been looking for a needle in a haystack. In between all the lights from the screens and all the noises from the games, on top of all the people talking and screaming, the distractions were a dime a dozen and only made their task even more difficult.

Finally Face hit upon a piece of luck when he pressed down on the shoulders of the man in front of him and jumped up for a better look, and he spotted a familiar blue cap in front of the screen of a Tron console.

"Hannibal, over there!" he pointed.

With a little work, the two men made their way past the crowd and saw the trademark tiger on the back of the brown leather jacket and knew they had their man. Hannibal went up behind the unsuspecting pilot who was supplying his own sound effects on top of the ones built into the game, when Hannibal called out suddenly, "Captain, attention!"

Murdock's hands left the controls and he saluted and turned on his heel, "Colonel! What're you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Hannibal answered with a smirk, "Where's Jean?"

"Right here," Jean answered as she came up behind them and asked, "How'd you know where we were?"

"Just a lucky guess," Hannibal replied, "Have you guys been here long?"

"Couple of hours," she said, "Is something wrong?"

"No, but I'd like to have a word with both of you," Hannibal said, "So would you mind coming with us?"

"Do we have a choice?" she replied.

"No," Hannibal answered, "Come on."

Jean and Murdock looked at each other and then followed the lieutenant and colonel out of the room, and out the front revolving door of the hotel. They walked out to the crowded parking lot, and Murdock and Jean sat down at the curb where it was dark and semi private; Hannibal noted this and stopped a few feet ahead of them and pulled on Face's sleeve to jerk him back towards them.

"So what'd you come out here to talk to us about?" Jean asked.

"Well, I went to your room tonight to talk to you two and that's when I found out you were gone," Hannibal told them, "I wanted to talk to you two about your plans to annul your marriage."

They looked at each other again and without saying a word, both Face and Hannibal picked up that something was wrong.

"What is it?" he asked.

They looked to the front to face the others and Murdock said awkwardly, "You're too late on that one, Colonel."

"As of 3 o' clock this afternoon, our annulment was finalized," Jean explained, "As far as the state of California, _and_ the rest of the world is concerned, we were never married."

"What?" Hannibal asked.

"Aw geez, you guys did it again?" Face asked, "First you get married without telling anybody and now you got it ended without telling us anything either?"

Jean stood up and got in his face and answered, "That's right."

Face took a step back and said, "That's all I wanted to know."

Hannibal looked embarrassed by this sudden revelation, and for the first time in a long time he couldn't think of anything to say, let alone whatever the right thing might be, finally he settled for an, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Jean said, "It's the best thing that could've happened for us."

"That's right," Murdock said, and he turned to Face and explained, "See I remembered what you said before, Facey, about we could get it annulled now and then get remarried later on, and we decided that's just what we're going to do."

"When?" Face asked.

"Well that's the one thing we haven't decided on yet," Murdock answered.

"Roughly in about three years," Jean said, "Unless something comes up before then that makes the matter a pressing one."

"Why three years?" Hannibal asked.

"Because," Jean answered, "We figured by that time we should both be ready to try marriage again, and by that time we both ought to have our lives in order enough that…_should_ your dream become a nightmare reality for us," Hannibal innocently rolled his eyes at that thought and Jean continued, "That we'll be ready for the fallout of having kids. At least now I'll be able to look my mother in the eye when I see her again, I won't have to tell her she missed her only daughter's wedding."

"That's right," Murdock stepped in, "But in the meantime we're both bachelors again, free and easy."

"Speak for yourself," Jean commented.

"Well free anyway," Murdock said.

Face leaned over towards Hannibal and asked him, "Is this the craziest thing you've ever heard, Hannibal?"

"Yes," he answered.

Which Face knew was never enough to deter Hannibal from anything. "But you think it could work?" Face asked.

"Yes," Hannibal answered.

"Should've known," he replied.

"So when were you planning to tell us?" Hannibal asked.

"We weren't," Murdock said with a laugh, "We were going to see how long it took you guys to bring the subject up and _then_ we'd tell you."

Hannibal laughed, then he turned to head to the van and told the others, "Come on."

"Where're we going?" Jean asked.

Hannibal turned back to them and answered, "Well we missed out on the wedding, so we might as well go out with a bang on the annulment, we're going to do this right like we should've been able to do for the wedding."

"You get that?" Jean asked.

"No but let's see what he's got in mind," Murdock answered.

* * *

Hannibal was the first one up the next morning. It was still early, but it was light enough in the house that he could see the mess the living room was in, he figured it would probably take half an hour to get everything cleaned up and thrown away. He'd decided last night that since Murdock and Jean's marriage had ended on a good note, that they ought to celebrate it as they would've celebrated the wedding, so on the way back to the house they'd taken a detour and picked up a bottle of champagne, and from an all-night grocery store a frozen cake, and at Murdock's insistence, two boxes of ice cream and potato chips.

When they returned to the house, Hannibal and Face both took a turn at explaining to B.A. what was going on and what they'd found out, but Hannibal couldn't remember now if the sergeant had finally got what they spent a better part of last night telling him. In fact, he couldn't remember much of anything from last night; it was all a blur of champagne, dancing, and everybody having a turn kissing the ex-bride.

After three months he was still having trouble taking in the fact now that the marriage was over; he kept reminding himself of this little fact as the morning drudged on. He had figured that Murdock was just holding off as long as possible for the sake of staying married, now he guessed that the pilot had finally reached the end of that particular line. As he started the cleanup of collecting the dirty plates and spilt champagne glasses and empty beer cans from around the living room he thought back to when he was in the hospital. He could still see Jean fuming over him and his big mouth, telling the whole staff that she was pregnant, he laughed at the memory. But what he really remembered was his discussion with Murdock; when he'd approached the topic with the pilot, Murdock had denied everything and said only, _"Aw, Hannibal, you ought to know me better than that. She's too young."_

He hadn't really paid attention to that statement before, but he thought about it now, and it made sense. Oh, Jean wasn't too young in the biological sense to have children, but he looked at the bigger picture. Jean was employed as a stuntman in Hollywood, and possibly would soon be making her breakthrough into actual starring roles. Hannibal already knew how hard it was to build a career like that, and he was considering it from the perspective of a man in his 50s, he couldn't imagine being a woman in her 20s with a new baby trying the same odds. Murdock had been right in that regard, Jean was too young to have any kids now, but at the same time Hannibal realized, so was Murdock. The pilot had spent 10 years living in a psychiatric hospital, and he'd only had three months of freedom back in the outside world, Murdock wasn't anymore ready to start a family than Jean was. Today, in this light, their plan made sense; they wait a few years before deciding if they wanted to get married again. By that time, Murdock would have a few years of experience back in the real world before having to deal with raising children.

It wasn't that he questioned Murdock's ability to cope with life on the outside, or his ability to balance fatherhood with everything else they were going through; he knew that the pilot could, but this wasn't about that. All too often young people went straight out into the world, fresh out of school, settled down and started families; and sure, a lot of them were able to make it work, but as a result they had to sacrifice everything else. That was never an idea that set well with Hannibal, he firmly believed every person needed a few years lived for themselves before they made that lifetime commitment to another person that they would spend 18 years raising, and the rest of their lives worrying about. And now was Murdock's chance to have those years to and for himself; as far as Hannibal knew, Murdock went right from school to the Air Force, and then to Vietnam, and then this. So, difficult though Hannibal was finding it to accept what had happened yesterday, because he had really believed that they would stay married despite their ongoing talk about an annulment, at the bottom of it all, he knew that they'd made the right decision, he just wondered how different things would be now that they'd done it.

Face must've woken up with a similar thought in his head, because he came into the living room and said, quietly though, "Hannibal…hey Hannibal, come here!"

He turned and asked, "What is it?", wondering why Face was whispering.

"Come here and look at this," Face told him, and disappeared over to the downstairs guest room.

Hannibal followed him into the room and both men stopped in the doorway. With the morning light starting to poke in through the window they were able to see Murdock and Jean in bed together, still in the clothes they'd worn last night, each wrapped in the other's arms; Hannibal flashed on a similar scene the morning after Murdock announced their plans to end their marriage, only this time they both looked happy as they slept, as if they'd each finally found peace in their lives.

Hannibal couldn't help smiling at the sight before him. Maybe things weren't going to change much after all.


	16. Chapter 16

"It's like I said in the beginning," Jean told Hannibal and Face when she woke up the next morning and joined them in the kitchen, "This doesn't change anything."

"I find that a little hard to believe," Face said.

"So what?" she asked, "I didn't ask for your opinion." She looked to Hannibal and explained, "It's like we discussed before, the plan is the same, Murdock will stay here with me for a while, then when he gets tired of that, he'll stay with you, when he gets tired of you, he'll stay with Face, when he gets tired of Face he'll go stay with B.A., and then run full circle back here."

"Murdock will do _what_?" B.A. asked as he entered the kitchen.

Jean tilted her head back to look at him and said, "You like having him around and you know it."

"According to who?" B.A. asked.

"Whom," she replied.

"What?" was his response.

"He's on second," Face said coyly.

"Who?" B.A. asked.

"He's the first baseman," Face replied.

Hannibal cleared his throat and both men took the hint to shut up, he looked back to Jean and said, "Exactly when was all of this taken care of?"

"When you weren't looking, naturally," Jean answered bluntly, "We didn't want to take a chance on you guys trying to stop us."

"And you think we would've?" Hannibal asked.

"I don't think you can honestly say you wouldn't have at least tried," Jean said, "I won't bother asking. It's like I told you before, Hannibal, I never did this to get in your way, to interfere with the Team, it was never about that, but there's no point in pretending anymore either, Decker knows so it can't do any of us any good now."

Hannibal could tell that it was taking all of Jean's effort to remain civil with them; they'd all had too much to drink last night, except B.A. of course, and none of them had ever had the pleasure of seeing what kind of a person Jean became when she was drunk because she never crossed that line. Maybe she wasn't an angry drunk but, naturally, she was nasty with a hangover, and he could see the unmistakable look in her eyes that said she was in a mood to taste blood. So he let go of the subject and she got up from the table and left the room.

"Well, what do you think, Hannibal?" Face asked when he felt certain she wouldn't pop back in and bite somebody's head off.

"What's done is done, Face," he replied, "She said nothing's different…that may be true, but even if it is, something _is_ going to have to change."

"What's that?" Face asked.

* * *

"Hannibal, are you sure about this idea?" Face asked that night as he watched the colonel go around his bedroom, packing up his stuff.

"Yes, Face," he replied, "I've given this a lot of thought and I think it's in everybody's best interests. I have no doubt that Murdock and Jean would've gone through with their annulment anyway, but it doesn't change the fact that we were in the way too much while they were married."

"Right, we were in the way when they were married but now that they're not married we're getting _out_ of the way, why?" Face asked.

"Because," Hannibal replied.

"Because what?"

"Because we should've stayed out of their way the first time," Hannibal said, "It's one thing to come here and visit for a while, but we're starting to put down roots at this house, I want to get back to my apartment."

Face laughed and said, "Boy I'll bet you never thought you'd ever say that."

Hannibal zipped up his bag and told Face, "It's time that we left. These two may not be married anymore but they _are_ going to be living together periodically, they need to be left alone for a while. Besides, it'll be nice to get back into our old routines again."

"True," Face replied, "I'd like having a place again I can take a date home to for the night…" he glanced out the door and added, "Preferably a place where insanity doesn't run freely."

Hannibal chuckled and said, "That's the spirit." He went out into the hall and called down the stairs, "B.A., you ready to go?"

B.A.'s reply was muffled and sounded like it might as well have been coming from down in the basement, but Hannibal and Face were able to decipher the half-coherent response, "Yeah, Hannibal, I got my stuff ready."

Murdock and Jean were at the bottom of the stairs waiting for them and Jean asked them, "Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay for a while?"

"No thanks, kid," Hannibal said, "If I don't get back to my apartment soon the termites are going to team up with the cockroaches and eat me out of house and home completely, and I've still got three months left on my lease before I can let that happen."

"Well if you change your mind, you know where we are," Murdock said.

"That's right," Hannibal replied.

"Hannibal," Jean stuck her arm out to keep him from getting past her, "Before you leave would you mind if I had a word with you for a minute?"

Hannibal put his bag down and answered, "Certainly not, is this a private matter or a public one?"

"Private," Jean jerked her head towards the door of the downstairs bedroom.

Hannibal shrugged and followed behind her, turning back to the others, "I'll just be a minute."

Jean closed the door behind them and said to Hannibal, "You're leaving because of us."

"Yes," he answered bluntly, "I think we were in your way too much when you were married, I don't know, maybe that was a contributing factor to you guys' decision."

"It wasn't," Jean shook her head, "The clerk at the courthouse told us if we'd dragged our feet much longer we would've been stuck married to each other, and for the time being that just isn't an option."

"I understand," he nodded as he sat at the foot of the bed, "Believe it or not I had a mother once."

Jean seemed to hit on a particular thought and she asked him, "Hannibal, where do you come from?"

He smiled coyly and looked down to the floor, then back at her and said, "I'll tell you someday."

"When?"

"Oh…say when you have your first kid," he answered with a smirk, "Provided I'm even invited to the occasion."

Jean cracked a smile but managed to swallow the laugh that tried to get out, and she asked him, "Can I tell you something, Hannibal? You know the odds are, whenever Murdock and I do remarry, _assuming_ we do…" he nodded, "The odds are pretty good that it'll be the same as it was this time," Jean shook her head, "You guys won't know when it happens."

"Ah, we're not invited then?" he asked.

"It's not that," she said, "It's just that we didn't wait around to get it done the first time, and tell you the truth I don't know that if we had the option to wait the second time around, if I could stay for that."

"Cold feet," Hannibal said, "They tend to stay warm when you run."

"Maybe," she replied, "But…you know it would mean a lot to Murdock if you guys _were_ there when we got married again."

"It'd mean a lot to us too," Hannibal told her.

Jean nodded understandingly and said, "When the time comes, we'll try, Hannibal, we will try, to hold out long enough to let you guys in on it…I mean you know how I am, I'm very low maintenance."

"You are _no_ maintenance," Hannibal replied smartly, "I've been through your closet," he chuckled as he said, "You don't own a single dress, do you?"

Jean ignored his comment and continued, "I'm just saying when we do get married it _will_ be like the last time, very simple, no church wedding, no guests, no fancy clothes, no organ player, no rings, none of that stuff…it'll be as simple of a ceremony as they come…all the same," Hannibal could tell Jean was having trouble explaining the last of it as she struggled to get the whole thing out. "I would like it very much if when that time comes…if you would be present to…to uh…"

Hannibal nodded, "I get it, and I'd be honored." He stood up, went over to Jean and put his arms around her and pulled her close momentarily as he commented, "Every father hopes to be present for his daughter's wedding, and to have the opportunity to give her away."

Jean laughed and told him, "Murdock _said_ that you thought of all of us as your kids."

"He's right," Hannibal answered, then, lowering his gaze to see her face he added, "And that said, I expect you to be on your best behavior while we're gone. Now let's see, that includes eating your Brussels sprouts," Jean grabbed two handfuls of his jacket to support herself as she laughed, "Cleaning your room," she started to slink down as she laughed harder. Hannibal smirked as he added, "And remembering to wash behind your ears." Jean had just about sunk completely to the floor when he grabbed her wrists and pulled her back up and told her, "And if I find out you did not, I'm going to come back here and put a bottle of castor oil down your throat like we used to do with bad little girls in my day, is that understood?"

Jean couldn't talk at first for all her laughing, but she finally managed to choke out, "Yeah I got it."

"Good," Hannibal placed his hands on the sides of her head and kissed the top of it and told her, "I love you, kid."

Jean smiled sheepishly as she replied, "I love you too, Hannibal, thanks for everything." She laughed and said, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" he asked.

"For everything," she said as she pulled away from him, "For getting married without telling you, for not telling you about what happened at the cabin…" she went over to the window and had her back to him as she added, "And I'm sorry for ruining your jacket."

"What?" Hannibal asked.

Jean stared out into the night as she answered, "Remember the flight out to the hospital? Murdock said he could get us there in 10 minutes, and you said that was all the time we had. The bandages had all been soaked through so you took off your jacket and used it to press down on the wounds instead…I never apologized for ruining your jacket with my blood, but I _am_ sorry."

Hannibal stood behind her in shock when he heard that. "You remember that flight?"

"Every minute of it," she said, "Ten minutes never went by so slowly in my whole life."

Hannibal went over to her and put his arm around her and said, "Jean, you don't have any reason to apologize for that, I was trying to keep you alive."

"I know," she replied, "I've never been indebted to anyone for my life before, I gotta tell you it's a weird feeling."

Hannibal smiled and responded, "I know, you get used to it in time."

Jean looked to the clock on the wall and said, "You guys better get going."

"Yeah I guess we ought to," Hannibal agreed as he pulled away from her, "I guess this is going to be a little awkward for all of us."

Jean nodded.

* * *

Saying goodbye was nothing new for anybody on the Team but this time it was something different. This time they were not saying goodbye to Murdock before sneaking him back into the V.A., they were saying goodbye to him as they left and he stayed behind at his new home. Now all four of them would be living out in the open, but for some reason parting company this time felt as if they might as well have been a thousand miles apart. Murdock went around hugging everybody goodbye, more than once, and he also kissed Face goodbye, also more than once.

"Come on," Hannibal said as it drew long, "Let's get out of here before the sun comes up."

"Alright," Face said as he opened the door on his side of the van, "We'll be back and see you soon, Murdock."

"Okay, Facey."

Face thought of something else and leaned out the window as he said, "And when I get moved into a new place I'll bring you over so you can see it."

"That'll be great," the pilot replied.

Face started to say something else but only got out "And" before Jean replied, "And if you don't get out of here, I'm going to bust you in the mouth."

Face closed his mouth and pulled his upper body back in the van window. Hannibal and B.A. got in and there was one more round of goodbyes exchanged before B.A. drove them out of there. Face watched Murdock and Jean waving them off until they were too far away to be seen anymore, and he turned around in his seat and asked Hannibal, "Do you think they'll be alright, Hannibal? I mean this _is_ going to be their first time living together alone."

"Say what?" B.A. asked, "Man you starting to sound like the crazy fool."

"No, he's right, B.A.," Hannibal said, "In every marriage it's important that the new couple has the chance to be alone, they're entitled to some privacy, and unfortunately they didn't have that when they _were_ married, so we're going to give it to them now."

"Yeah but I mean this is going to be Murdock's _first_ time left alone with her," Face reminded Hannibal, "What do you think's going to happen?"

Hannibal only smirked and said, "I can just imagine." He laughed at the look on the lieutenant's face and told him, "Murdock's a grown man, he knows what he's doing, he'll be fine."

"I hope so," Face replied, "You remember what he was like the night this whole mess started?"

Hannibal nodded as he thought back to that night at the bar when Murdock broke the news. "I remember, the marriage started off alright, it skidded into a rocky drop but it managed to end on a fairly good note, it's hard to ask for much more than that. One crucial thing we keep overlooking, married, not married, either way you look at it those two get along perfectly, I really don't think this is going to change much of anything."

"I hope you're right, Hannibal," Face told him.

"Well look on the bright side, Face," Hannibal said, "It's not like we're never going to see them again, we're just not going to be on top of them all the time like before. Besides, tomorrow morning we can find out how their first night alone went."

"Why's that?" Face asked.

"Because," Hannibal explained with a knowing smirk, "Bright and early tomorrow morning we're going to swing by and pick them up to give them a ride down to the studio so they can begin filming for the new movie, and when we do that we can grill Murdock for all the details."

"I might've known," Face replied with a small laugh, "They're never going to be able to get away from us, are they?"

"Would you have it any other way?" Hannibal asked in response.

* * *

Hannibal had been home in his own apartment for roughly half an hour before the knocking started. He was surprised the door wasn't broken down, it sounded like two people pounding on the door. One thing was for sure, it wasn't Decker fresh out of the hospital, he wouldn't knock on the door, he would just blow it down. Hannibal went over to the front door and peered out through the peephole, and threw the door open to the two people who had been banging on the door with hammers.

"We were lonely!" Murdock announced as he walked into the apartment.

Jean stepped in behind him, slipped the handle of her hammer into a loop in her jeans and told Hannibal, "Hope you don't mind but we decided to come and stay for the night."

"I might've guessed," Hannibal replied as he closed the door behind them, "Actually I'm glad you two showed up, there's something that I need to talk to you about."

"What's that, Colonel?" Murdock asked as he parked himself on the couch, and Jean did the same.

Hannibal went behind the couch, knelt down and came back up holding a brown leather purse by its strap.

"Oh Colonel, no good," Murdock said, "It doesn't match your shoes."

Hannibal managed to keep a straight face as he told them, "When we got here, B.A. started grumbling about having to get his van cleaned out because of all the junk that had accumulated in it over the past couple of weeks, and this was stuffed down behind one of the seats."

"It's that woman's," Jean realized.

"Right," Hannibal said, "Complete with her driver's license…now, it's one thing for a woman to pay no attention to not having her driver's license with her anymore, but _no_ woman," he quickly added to his original statement for Jean's benefit, "Who actually _carries_ a purse, is going to forget that it's been stolen from them."

"So why hasn't she come out of the woodwork to collect hers?" Jean asked.

Hannibal snapped his fingers and pointed at her and said, "That's the million dollar question, there's only one reason I can think of why that woman wouldn't be trying to get this back."

"Because everything in it that can identify her is fake," Murdock said.

"Exactly," Hannibal said, "So if that woman wasn't Jocelyn Watkins, then who is she, and where is she now, and who is she working with?"

"All good questions but no answers," Jean told him, "Not yet anyway, but how do we find out?"

"That's what I'm working on," he said, "When I get it figured out, you'll be the first to know, but Jean, there's something I wanted to ask you."

"What's that?" she asked.

"For knowing as little about this woman as you do, you undoubtedly know more about her than the rest of us do, so I want your professional opinion, do you think she'd have it in her to shoot somebody?"

Jean scoffed, "Come on, Hannibal, even the lowest form of human life can pull a trigger, doesn't take anything to kill someone."

"I'm not asking that," he said, "I'm asking if you think she would actually shoot somebody, or would she stick to her preferred methods of slowly torturing somebody instead?"

Jean thought about it and said, "I don't think I ever saw her with a gun, so I don't know, why?"

"Just thinking," Hannibal said, "If she was going to shoot somebody, who do you think it would be?"

"Out of us?" she asked, "Me, I'm the one that beat her up."

"Well, everybody that she was working with has been caught and is now in prison, so what's she going to be doing now?"

"If she's in any kind of position in the ring she's going to try and build it up again," Jean said, "Take in new recruits."

"Hannibal, how're we going to find out who that is?" Murdock asked.

"I know how, and it's going to coincide nicely with your new work as a stunt chopper pilot."

* * *

Murdock glanced over at his passenger and noted she was looking a little pale and he asked her, "You feeling alright, Saint?"

"I'm fine," she replied, "I just hope this works. The studio straps a camera onto the side of this chopper to get air shots, while _we_ have a camera in here with us to take a look at the ground down below…circle over the cabin, Hannibal said, there might be new traffic coming through there that we can follow, he said."

"Well you know what Hannibal's plans are like, but they always have a way of working out," Murdock reminded her.

Jean looked up at the roof of the helicopter and said, "Tell me something, Murdock how did you _ever_ get used to that noise?"

"What noise?" Murdock asked.

Jean jerked a thumb up in the direction of the rotor blades. "I notice that you're not hard of hearing as a result of it."

"What!?" Murdock asked as he leaned over towards her.

Jean slapped him on the arm and laughed.

"Hey look down there," Murdock said, "That's the cabin."

"Yeah, but I'm not seeing anything showing any recent traffic through the place," Jean told him.

"Affirmative on the negative," Murdock said as he picked up the radio, "Hey Hannibal, we're here and seeing nothing, did you guys find anything out yet?"

"Could be," Hannibal replied, "Face checked out the lowlife hall of fame in Nicaragua, turns out there's a guy there called Richard Russo, has a big monopoly on both the drug market and the red light brothels down there, but keeps it all nicely covered and uses some kind of stockbroker front as he zigzags back and forth across the countries."

"Well that fits in nicely with the flight that was heading out there," Murdock said, "But how're we gonna get our hands on this guy?"

"Easily," Hannibal answered, and they could hear his grin on the radio as he explained, "It turns out that Mr. Russo is chartering a private jet to fly him _here_ to meet up with some quote, _business associates_."

"I'll just bet," Jean commented, "And 5 will get you 10 his associate has blonde hair and likes sharp objects."

"Could be," Hannibal told them, "We're getting a line on where the jet's supposed to be making its landing."

"Don't tell me the air base," Jean said.

"No," Hannibal answered, "A very public airport, where it would be very easy to get lost in a crowd of about ten thousand people."

"Smart," Murdock noted, "Who's ever going to find them that way? When's the flight supposed to come in, Colonel?"

"Two o' clock this afternoon," Hannibal said.

Jean reached over and showed Murdock her watch and he knew that that wasn't too far off. "What're we going to do?" she asked.

Murdock waved her off, signaling for everything to be left to him, and he said into the radio, "Mayday, mayday, our fuel supply has run short and we are going to be making an emergency landing at…what's the airport it's coming to, Hannibal?"

"L.A. International."

"Alright, consider us west bound and down," Murdock said, "We are landing this sucker there." He put the radio down and told Jean, "As soon as we land, yank that camera off the side and shut it off, erase the last couple minutes of it if you can."

"Right," she agreed.

* * *

As they reached the airport, Murdock suddenly took them down fast and hard, almost crashing on an unoccupied runway. Jean threw the door open on her side and reached down and grabbed the camera, shut it off and tossed it into the cockpit and she got out with Murdock. They quickly got their hands full with a bunch of angry people who wanted an answer for what the hell was going on, but Murdock gave them a story about the chopper dropping despite his work at the controls to keep it in the air, then they seemed to be out of the frying pan on that one. While a crew was brought in to inspect the helicopter and find the source of the damage, he got both of them out of there and headed to a more crowded area where he figured Hannibal and the others should be arriving at any time.

"You think we'll be able to find them in the middle of all this chaos?" Jean asked Murdock.

"Of course," Murdock said, "All we have to do is keep an eye out for the angry mudsucker and then Hannibal and Face can't be too far off."

Jean looked around and tried to see past the wall of people who were coming in to catch flights and just getting off from them. Then, in the midst of the crowd she recognized B.A.'s mohawk, and from there was able to spot Face near him, but Hannibal on the other hand…

"Murdock, do you see what I see?" Jean asked him.

Murdock looked and said, "I see it but I'm not sure I believe it."

An ugly gray haired woman in a long tattered skirt and a sweater missing its buttons and large clodhopper men's shoes, and smoking a large cigar, walked alongside B.A. and Face and was coming right their way.

"What the hell happened to you?" Jean asked Hannibal.

"Well due to creative differences," he said over his cigar, "I have been let go as the Aquamaniac for the time being."

"Again?" Murdock asked.

Hannibal smiled and added, "However, I was able to get a small role in Area X, _your_ new movie."

"What?!" Jean asked.

Hannibal chuckled at her response.

"I don't right offhand recall a bag lady in the script," Jean said.

"One of the new rewrites," Hannibal explained, "See there's this scene in an alley at night, and this old woman beats a soldier to death when he…"

His description was cut off when Jean pointed behind him and said, "Hannibal, look!"

He turned around, and so did B.A. and Face, and they looked to where Jean was pointing, and a couple hundred feet away they saw a man in a suit and a woman in an army uniform, who they all could identify as the woman from the bar brawl, standing next to the stairs leading down from a landed jet, discussing something as one passed a briefcase to the other.

"What do you think that's about?" Murdock asked.

"I don't know but I'm going to find out," Hannibal said, and he added, "Murdock, you come with me, I've got an idea."

"What's he going to do?" Face asked as they watched the colonel and captain walk off.

"I can guess," Jean said, and when Face looked at her she asked him, "Did you ever see The Cop in Blue Jeans?"

"Huh?" Face asked.

"Watch," Jean pointed.

Face saw Hannibal and Murdock double back on a motorcycle, he didn't even want to know _where_ they got it from, and saw them speed up to the man and the woman, saw Murdock raise himself up and howl victoriously as he snatched the briefcase away from the woman, then saw both men duck down on the bike as they drove under one of the wings.

"They did it!" Jean laughed, then she said to Face, "Come on, they're gonna need our help."

And she was right, right after Hannibal and Murdock made their getaway, shots were fired by two men who had been with the flight crew of the jet. Luckily they were too far away when it happened that they really had to worry about getting hit; but Russo got away to a waiting car and tried to make a speedy getaway. Unfortunately Jean wound up right in its path and Russo showed no signs of trying to swerve to avoid hitting her; so she took the initiative and just as the car would've plowed into her, she jumped up onto the hood and rammed her fist through the windshield, ignoring the glass cutting into her wrist and instead reached clear on through and managed to grab Russo by the hair on his head and jerked it forward.

"I'm going to kill us both if you don't stop this car," she told him.

But Russo snapped his head back out of her grip, and buried his foot into the accelerator. Jean threw herself up onto the roof of the car and reached down to grab the metal door handle on the driver's side. Through no easy feat, Jean managed to keep herself suspended on the roof with a death grip on the door handle through high speeds and the car's sudden swerves and turns, until finally the driver made one move too many and she was thrown off and rolled to a stop by the side of the road.

Meanwhile, Hannibal had managed to skid the motorcycle onto its side when he attempted a sharp turn and both he and Murdock tumbled off of it, and quickly found their hands full with two goons from the plane. Murdock jumped on one and one jumped on Hannibal, each fell to the ground with their captive and both sets of men were rolling around trying to toss the other off of them.

"Amazing," Face said as he and B.A. caught up with them, "It's like a contest between a couple of Mexican jumping beans."

Hannibal managed to slug the man he was stuck with and the man fell back, but before anything else happened they heard a shot go off, and heard Murdock scream, not howl, he was screaming like a wounded animal, and he fell onto the ground, giving his assailant the chance to get up and escape. Or he would've escaped if B.A. hadn't caught up with him and knocked him down, then he hotfooted it over to Murdock who was leaving a nice trail of blood on the ground under him.

"Murdock!" B.A. went over to him and helped him up, quickly looking him over to determine where he'd been hit, "Murdock, you alright?"

Murdock groaned but nodded, "I'm alright, I'm alright…" though he didn't sound convincing.

"Man," B.A. looked down at the blood he'd left behind on the pavement, "Come on, Murdock, we' get you some help."

Murdock groaned as he put a hand on his ribs and grunted, "That would be nice."

Hannibal and Face came running up to them, also trying to figure out what had happened. Murdock pushed their probing hands away, insisting he was fine, he was alright, it wasn't as bad as it looked, and it _was_ looking awful, they could see the whole side of his T-shirt was stained with blood.

"I'm alright," Murdock tried to convince Face as he squirmed under the lieutenant's hands reaching in through his jacket, "I wasn't shot."

"Then what happened?" Face asked.

That was when Hannibal turned and saw Jean laying by the side of the road, half crumpled into a ball, face down. He and B.A. ran over to see what had happened to her, and both were starting to worry because she wasn't moving.

"Jean, Jean!" Hannibal screamed as they reached her.

He knelt down beside her body and gently grabbed her to turn her over, and when she did they heard her moaning as she opened and shut her eyes a few times, and she seemed completely oblivious to the fact that the whole front of her T-shirt was also caked in blood. She moaned as she tried sitting up and managed to get out, "Eat your heart out, Nico Giraldi," before she fell back down.

"Take it easy, kid," Hannibal said as he carefully grabbed her and pulled her up, "We'll get you to the hospital."

"No, I don't need a hospital," she replied as she pushed him away, "I'm just a little banged up."

"A _little_?" B.A. asked.

Hannibal pointed down to the front of her shirt and told her, "Take a look at yourself, kid, you're bleeding!"

Jean looked down and said, "Hmmmm." She looked up at Hannibal and asked, "Where's Murdock? What happened to him?"

"He was shot, he's bleeding too," Hannibal told her.

"No he's not," Jean shook her head as she spotted Murdock and went over to him, "Hey Murdock, they got you too, eh?"

"Can you believe it, Saint?" Murdock asked as he went over to her, nonchalantly ignoring the bloodstain covering the right side of his shirt.

"What happened to your hands?" Jean asked as she grabbed one that was covered in blood, noticing that something was obviously different with his hands than his ribs.

"Looks like the same thing that happened to yours," he replied as he pointed out her own bleeding hand, "That jerk had a knife and tried to aerate me, I got a few pinpricks. When he heard the pop he took off."

"Oh boy, what're the odds?" Jean asked, "A whole pint of perfectly good movie blood gone _POOF_!"

"Movie blood?" the others asked.

Jean looked back to them and said, "That's right…what, you thought this was real?" she asked as she pointed to her shirt.

"Yes," they answered.

"If it was, you would've _heard_ it," Jean said, not implying the noise they'd heard with Murdock, but that if her blood had been real, she would've been screaming loud enough they all would've known it, "We did this for a kind of shock value, we figured if we got into a fight with these guys, and it looked like we were in really bad shape, then we could take them by surprise because who expects a corpse to jump up swinging?"

"But they popped during the fight when we really weren't planning on it," Murdock added.

"Well there _is_ something to the idea," Hannibal said, "But why didn't you tell us about that earlier?"

"Why didn't _you_ tell us you were coming here as Old Mother Hubbard?" Jean replied.

"Uh-oh," Face said when he heard sirens approaching, "They're playing our song."

"And our man got away again!" Jean realized.

"You mean _wo_man," Hannibal said as he too noted that during the confusion of the scuffle, the woman they'd come out to catch had managed to elude them again.

"This is starting to get old," Jean said.

"Don't worry, we'll catch her," Hannibal told her.

"We better," Jean replied, "Because I'm getting tired of this chick being our Professor Moriarty."

"Come on, let's get out of here," Hannibal said to the others as he saw the police cars starting to pull up back at the airport.

"What about the chopper?" Jean asked.

"Leave it, as far as the studio's concerned, it's being checked up for mechanical error," Hannibal told them as they piled into the van and sped out of there.

"Russo got away too," Jean told Hannibal.

"We'll get him too," Hannibal said, "Face, did you happen to get a look at the car he made off in?"

"Not much but if I had to guess I'd say it was a black 1967 Lincoln Continental," Face offered.

"Correction, one black 1967 Lincoln Continental with a broken windshield," Jean amended as she leaned over the front seat to show Hannibal what she was holding in her hand, "And missing one door handle on the driver's side."

All four men looked at the gray bar of metal she held in her hand and shook their heads in disbelief. Jean explained, "It popped off when I was thrown off the car," and she turned back to Face and asked, "How many 1967 Continentals do you want to bet there are in the Los Angeles district that are short one door handle?"

"I'm sure we can find out," Hannibal replied.

On the way back to the house so Jean and Murdock could clean up and change out of their bloody clothes, Face reached over to the front and tapped Hannibal on the shoulder to get his attention. Hannibal turned back and saw that Murdock and Jean had fallen asleep leaning against each other, and he had to laugh, even covered in blood and looking like a couple of wartime zombies they seemed to fit perfectly with each other.

"I don't think they're going to make it three years till they remarry," Face told Hannibal, "What do you think?"

Hannibal turned back to the front and took a cigar out of his pocket and replied, "I give them six months, maybe three if she cooks."

B.A. caught a glimpse of them in the rear view mirror and asked, "Think it'll work, Hannibal?"

"Well, oh one hand I don't think there's anybody more likely for either of them," Hannibal answered, "It's not every day you meet somebody else who can see your invisible dog."

B.A. glared at Hannibal through the corner of one eye and growled under his breath, Hannibal just laughed in response and said, "They seem stuck with each other any way you look at it."

And he was right. When Jean and Murdock woke up they found out that when the fake blood dried on their clothes and they were leaning against each other, they consequently got stuck to each other, and when they pulled apart it sounded like a couple of Velcro straps being pulled off each other. Hannibal chuckled at the irony that they were completely oblivious to.


	17. Chapter 17

Murdock looked himself in the mirror and saw just how coated in blood his shirt was and he could see why the others had freaked out earlier. If he didn't know it was fake he guessed he would've been pretty worried by the sight of it as well.

"You think this stuff will come out?" he asked Jean.

"I doubt it'll fully come out," she replied as she turned off the taps to the bathtub, "It's all dried by now anyway so it's probably permanent, but there's one way to find out."

"Hey Saint," Murdock said as he touched the front of his sticky shirt, "What do you think they make this stuff out of anyway?"

"I'm not sure we want to know," she answered as she pulled off her shoes, "Take your shoes off, and your jacket."

"What's this?" Murdock asked as he untied his Chuck Taylors, "Practicing baptizing?"

"Something like that," she answered as she put one foot up on the edge of the tub, "Come on."

Murdock went over to the tub and stepped up onto the side of it with her, and told her, "Looks like it'll be a tight fit."

"Oh these tubs are big enough for two people easy," Jean told him, "Maybe more if they're creative enough, ready?"

Murdock held his nose and answered, "Ready."

They stepped off the edge and landed in the steaming hot water. Despite the movie blood on their clothes being dry, the water did start to turn a reddish hue before they even surfaced.

Murdock hissed contentedly as he emerged in the water and said, "Now _this_ is nice, after the day we've had."

"Agreed, after today I think a little sterilization is in order," Jean remarked from where she was reclined at the other end of the tub, "How're your hands?"

"Mine are fine, what about yours?" Murdock asked her.

Jean held hers up and showed the bloody marks where the glass had been taken out, "Burning nicely." She lowered it into the water and hissed like a king cobra as the cuts exposed to the hot water stung her. She started laughing, a bit hysterically if anything, and she said, "I guess we went kind of crazy today, eh?"

"So what's new?" Murdock asked, "I'm always crazy, you know that."

"I'm starting to believe it," she replied, "I think you _have_ to be crazy to make it through this life." She started to laugh harder as she said, "You should've seen the look on Russo's face when I smashed his windshield and jerked his head down towards the steering wheel, he could hardly see where he was going!" She covered her mouth with her good hand as her whole body started to convulse with laughter.

Murdock reached over and asked her, "You feeling alright, sweetheart?"

"Yeah I'm fine," she said as she started to calm down, "But boy you should've seen it, it was fantastic, I wish we'd had the camera going for that one. Hey!" she thought of something and bobbed up in the water, "That briefcase you got away from Russo, what happened to it?"

"Hannibal got it," he answered, "It was locked so he's having Face work his magic on it."

"I wonder what's in it?" Jean asked.

"I doubt it's his lunch," Murdock said.

There was a knock on the bathroom door and they heard Face's muffled voice ask, "Murdock, you in there?"

"Yeah, Faceman, come on in," he said.

The door opened and Face stepped in and when he saw the two of them in the tub he doubled back around and said, "Whoa! Excuse me," and headed back for the door.

"Face, get back here," Jean told him as she pulled herself up, "What is it?"

By now the shock had worn off and Face managed to say what he had originally come in to say, with as little stammering as possible, "We got the briefcase open, and it's got about two hundred grand in it."

Murdock whistled and commented, "That'll buy a lot of nose powder."

"So what's the plan?" Jean asked.

Face laughed and said, "If this doesn't get Decker out of the hospital, nothing will. Hannibal has called every mechanic garage in the area _as_ Colonel Decker informing them to call here if they get any 1967 Continentals with a broken windshield and a missing door handle because we believe the man who has the car may be connected to an Iranian terrorist group."

"Oh are they getting back together again?" Murdock asked.

"Anyway, if this guy takes his car _anywhere_ to be repaired, we ought to find out about it very soon," Face added.

"Ingenious, but did you have to give them _my_ number?"

"We didn't," he replied, "They'll call the mobile phone in the van."

Jean closed one eye and squinted the other at him and asked, "They think 555-6162 is a direct line to the army?"

"All they need to know is that it's a number connecting them directly to Decker," Face said, "They call us, we move in and catch Russo, and from there I'm sure he'll be only too happy to cooperate and stab his partner in the back so we can catch her too."

"And in the meantime we just wait?" Jean asked.

"That's right," Face answered.

Jean looked at Murdock and they seemed to be contemplating the same thing.

* * *

"So much for having the house to ourselves," Jean told Murdock that night as they got ready for bed.

Murdock shrugged as he pulled the pillows off the top of the bed to pull the covers back and said, "I don't mind it."

"I guess I don't either," she replied, "Except I was hoping we'd finally have _one_ night alone together in this house."

"All in good time, my dear," Murdock told her.

He yanked the bedspread down and saw that some of the threads in the middle had given way and a hole had formed in it. "Hey Saint, I think you need to start clipping your toenails before you go to bed."

"That's been there," Jean said, "It started wearing out about a month ago."

"So why don't you get it replaced?" Murdock asked as he put the pillows back and climbed in.

"I'm going to," she said, "But you guys don't get the freezing winters here like back home, so I figure it can wait a while. Besides, it's on my side of the bed anyway."

Jean slipped in alongside him and pulled the covers up and settled in beside him. Murdock closed his eyes and turned over and thought he'd be able to fall asleep soon, but he felt something rough scratching his legs. He opened one eye, then the other, and looked over at Jean and asked her, "Is that you?"

"Is what me?" she tiredly responded.

Murdock pulled his head under the covers and burrowed down to the foot of the bed and felt the bottom of her feet, they were both rough and starting to crack. Murdock resurfaced at the top and asked her, "Don't you have any lotion to put on those porcupine quills?"

Jean pointed over to the nightstand on his side of the bed. Murdock grabbed the bottle and looked at the label, it was a cheap brand, highly watered down, and definitely a matter of you got what you paid for. He held it up questioningly and said to her, "Now you don't mean to tell me this is the best you can do."

"For the time being it is," Jean answered and watched as Murdock pulled her side of the covers down, "It's like I told you, I haven't been able to find much work and the money's been tight."

Murdock hawed under his breath as he squeezed the lotion onto his hands and rubbed it onto her feet, "Yeah, money's tight and those goons got $200,000 in that briefcase downstairs alone, now how does that work?"

"I don't know," Jean replied, flinching as Murdock tickled the ball of one foot, "But I'd rather be poor and clean than rich and with their kind of blood on my hands."

"Agreed," Murdock said as he lightly tickled the toes on her other foot and watched her kick. He smiled mischievously and crawled back up to the top of the bed.

"Murdock, I got a question for you," Jean said, "If things had been different, and we didn't _have_ to get married like we did, would you still have married me?"

He thought about it for a minute and said, "If you'd still asked, I think so. What about you? If you had it to do over again, would you have married me?"

Jean shook her head, "I never would've married, period, just not my style."

"Oh ho," Murdock grinned.

She smiled knowingly in return, "Not like that…I don't like anybody, I wouldn't want to be stuck with _anybody_ for life."

"Ah, then you haven't been breaking out your little black book while I was gone," he said.

"Don't have one," she said, "I haven't gone out with anybody since I moved out here, and I never did back home either, I told you, I just don't like anyone."

"You like me, don't you?" he asked.

"I married you, of course I like you," she said, "You're different."

"Story of my life," he replied.

Jean looked up at him and said tiredly, "I never would've married anybody if I had it to do over again, but I'm glad I did this because I really enjoyed it."

"Me too, darling," Murdock leaned over and kissed her on her forehead, "Me too."

"Murdock, I got another question for you," Jean said, "Decker aside…why _did_ you marry me?"

"Because you asked," he answered.

She smiled weakly and said, "Why would you pick me though? You know when you get down to it, we're nothing alike."

"Now how do you figure that?" he asked her.

She sat up and explained, "Let's start with the obvious, shall we? You're nice, and I'm not."

"Ah you just don't like showing it, just like B.A.," Murdock told her.

"You're a good person, Murdock," she said, "But I meant what I told Decker, all I'm good for is destroying things, and people."

"It comes with the territory," he replied, "Trust me, you get used to it after a while."

Of course he knew that she was wrong. For some reason Jean didn't see it, but he did. Shortly after they'd gotten home, the first thing she had done was get a bottle of peroxide to pour over the cuts on his hands. Usually he could put up with the burn, no problem, this time however he felt like salt was being poured on his hands and he screamed. Jean jumped back and about had a heart attack at his response, _"Sorry!"_ she'd screamed in a panic, _"I'm so_ sorry."

He sighed as he watched his hands foam up and he'd told her, _"It's alright, I know you had to do it, and look, aren't they a nice shade of white now?"_

"More of that soldier talk," Jean said, "I ain't any soldier."

"Well now I wouldn't say that," Murdock got out of the bed and went over to the closet and pushed all the hangers aside until he found what he was looking for, and took out her jacket. _The_ jacket that had one of each of their medals that they'd given to her before returning her to New York with her family, the jacket with her name on it along with the rank of Corporal.

"Whose idea was that anyway?" Jean asked.

"Hannibal's," Murdock answered, "He came up with the whole plan, as usual."

"Of course," she remarked, "He always does."

* * *

The next day came and there hadn't been any calls to the phone in the van. Late in the morning Hannibal found himself in the semi-private company of Murdock, who was trying to tell him something but Hannibal had a feeling that something was lost in the translation.

"I'm not sure how this works, Hannibal, maybe it's one of those things that falls under marital privilege, or maybe not, or maybe if I would've found out about this a week ago it would've been alright, I'm not sure…"

"Murdock, calm down, what is it?" Hannibal asked.

"Well it's about Jean."

"Ah," he said as he reached into his pocket for a cigar, "And what about Jean?"

"Well…" Murdock suddenly looked like a kid that had been caught red-handed doing something that would earn him a whooping, "I was curious about something, so I checked Jean's financial records."

"Any particular reason?" Hannibal asked.

"Just curiosity…she's got a few thousand dollars in a bank account, but I found out that's just a bare minimum for emergencies."

"Ah-ha," Hannibal said knowingly, "She doesn't trust banks, smart kid. So what does she do, just keep the money laying around the house?"

"No," Murdock shook his head, "I found out she keeps most of it invested in a Bible college down south."

"A what?" Hannibal asked.

"Apparently investing in the church gets better interest than the bank," Murdock answered, "Anyway…I probably did some things I shouldn't have, but I found out that Jean withdrew a lot of money over the past few weeks, but I don't know what it went for. It can't be anything in the house," and he explained about what he'd found out last night.

"Hmmm," Hannibal seemed to give the matter some serious thought, "Has she said what she did with the money?"

Murdock shook his head, "She doesn't know that I know."

Hannibal nodded understandingly.

"I'm not sure what she'd do if I told her, Hannibal, I mean nothing was a joint account, so I guess even if we were still married I still wouldn't have any right to know about any of it," Murdock said, "I just couldn't figure it out. You know, she had all that drug money left over from…" he didn't finish the thought, he didn't need to, Hannibal just nodded, "And I don't know where it is because apparently she didn't have anywhere near that much invested to begin with, but what'd she take all that other money out for?"

"Where is she now?" Hannibal asked.

"Down in the kitchen I think," Murdock answered.

Hannibal stood up and told Murdock he'd take care of the matter, and went downstairs to find Jean. She was alone in the kitchen, with her back to him as she checked the contents of the fridge. Hannibal cleared his throat to announce his presence and when Jean turned around he just smiled and asked, "Finally reached the starving actor's point, eh?"

"I'm making a list, I know we're about out of everything," she said as she shut the door.

"Jean, I need to talk to you about something," Hannibal told her.

"What is it?" she asked as she walked over to him.

Hannibal reached into a pocket on his jacket and told her, "The other night when you and Murdock came to my apartment, do you remember you had a jacket on that night? Well, something fell out of the pocket and I found it the next day."

Jean gazed down and saw what he was holding in his hand, several money orders with her name on them, the amounts Hannibal had added up already and knew they amounted to over $5,000.

"Did you tell the others?" she asked.

"No, I figured until I knew what it was about, that it would just be between the two of us," he said, "You don't need me to tell you that if you're involved in something illegal, a monetary amount of this size bypasses any and all misdemeanors straight into felony territory."

"It's not that," Jean shook her head.

"Well I'm listening," Hannibal said.

Jean sat down at the table and looked down at the linoleum top and asked him, "Would you believe me if I said it's for Murdock?"

"Is it?" he asked.

"Yes," she looked up at him.

"What is it exactly?" Hannibal asked.

Jean lowered her gaze again so she looked straight ahead and said, "I had an idea, shortly after we got married. I figured Murdock was going to be living here anyway, hell, he was my husband…I thought it would be a nice surprise for him."

"What would?" Hannibal asked.

She cocked her head to the side and glanced at him as she explained, "I figured since I had that empty storage room upstairs, and I don't use it for anything, that it could become a game room…_his_ game room. That's what the money was for, I got the names of the companies that make those arcade games like the ones he had in his room at the hospital, and I was going to buy them and have them put up in that room, for him."

"You're serious," Hannibal said, intending it to be a question but it came out as a statement instead.

"Sure," Jean told him, "Why not? He's a free man now, he ought to have what he wants…" she looked at the table again as she added, "I took the money out and figured I could put it back when I started working again, but that hasn't been happening too much. That's why I wanted to get that role for Area X because the pay's good, in a few weeks I can put back all the money I took out and nobody would be the wiser. That was the plan anyway."

Hannibal looked at the money orders in his hand and asked her, "Exactly how much _has_ it cost you?"

"Enough," she answered bluntly, "No matter, I got it paid off, I'll get it put back, just like the money for your operation. You ever read McTeague, Hannibal? I can be just as miserly as Trina when I have to be, and with work the way it's been I _have_ had to be after doing _this_…you guys weren't around for so long, and when you did come we had other things to worry about, that's why Murdock hasn't caught on until now…but there's no point in hell to having all the money in the world if you can't use it to someone else for some good."

Hannibal wasn't sure what to say for a minute.

"So, you going to tell him or what?" Jean asked.

"You're still willing to do this when you two aren't even married anymore?" Hannibal asked.

"Yes," she answered without missing a beat, "Because Murdock is my friend, he's about the only friend I've got, and this is something nice I can do for him, I get the feeling that he hasn't had a lot of that over the years, you know?"

Hannibal nodded. "I know, and you're right, unfortunately people are just as likely to be scared off by Murdock's…eccentric behavior as they are to like him for it."

Jean laughed once and said, "Rich people are eccentric, when you're like us you're just weird…crazy," she amended herself.

Jean suddenly doubled over against the table, clutching her stomach and moaning.

"What's wrong?" Hannibal asked her.

Jean swallowed heavily and answered, "It's my stomach again."

Hannibal looked at her questioningly and said, "You know, you don't look so good."

Jean glared at him through one eye and snapped, "I'm short and I'm young, what were you expecting, Clara Bow?"

Hannibal asked her, "When _was_ the last time you saw a doctor?"

"In the hospital," Jean groaned, "After Decker's car exploded."

Hannibal reached out with one hand and yanked her chair back and helped her up, "Come on, we're going to get you looked at."

"I'm not having that Maggie chick examine me," Jean said.

"No problem, there's a free clinic nearby," Hannibal told her, "I happen to know they're good at keeping their mouths shut when it counts."

"I don't want to go," Jean said.

"You've been puking your guts up off and on since we got back in town," he told her, "There's no way you're _not_ going."

Jean glared up at him and said, "You're not going to be happy until they announce it's morning sickness, are you?"

Hannibal laughed and said to her, "Come on now, he's not going to hurt you."

"Oh yes he will," Jean replied as she dragged her feet behind him, "That's all they ever do. And _you_ stay out of the room."

"Alright," he agreed.

"I've already had enough weird men standing around looking at me than I care to remember," Jean said.

* * *

The doctor who saw Jean turned out to be a woman in her late 30s, and, after a lengthy session in an examination room, she came out to speak to Hannibal since he had taken the liberty of putting himself down as her father, and had also taken the liberty of making Jean a few years younger than she actually was.

"Well, do you have any idea what's wrong with her?" he asked.

"She's definitely feeling poorly," the doctor told him, "She's been screaming for ipecac."

"She _wants_ to be sick, why?" Hannibal asked.

"Something she ate didn't agree with her and she said it's like a 20 pound weight pressing on her stomach," the doctor explained.

"Any idea what it is?"

"Yeah, I had her run through what she's been eating for the last few days, and speaking as a physician in my professional opinion, it's all junk," she said.

Hannibal thought back the last couple of days, he remembered that the refrigerator had been on the better side of empty for a while, and he also remembered that they'd put off getting groceries and just picked up pizza and burgers for lunch and dinner and he said, "That's probably my fault, you see…her brothers and I have been visiting with her and I'm afraid none of us are much for home cooking, so we've mainly just been ordering in."

"Well it's coming back on her now," the doctor told him, "I'd say that it's her body's way of telling her to lay off the fast food and eat something with a little more sustenance."

"If you don't mind, doctor, I do have a couple of questions before we leave," Hannibal said, "This apparently has been happening for a while, is there any chance that she's making herself sick? I mean she works in movies, so is there a possibility she's doing this to keep her weight down, like jockeys do?"

The doctor shook her head, "If she was, she's new at it, I found no signs of long term damage from excessive vomiting."

"Alright, my next question," Hannibal said, "Is there any possibility that she's pregnant?"

The doctor smiled at him and shook her head, "No, we did those tests too, and I don't mind telling you your daughter was a terrible patient for them."

"I guess it's understandable," Hannibal said, "She told me she wasn't but…" he shrugged, "Anymore, how do you know?"

"Your daughter hasn't been with any boys," it wasn't so much a question, it sounded as if the doctor knew.

"Not to the best of my knowledge," he answered.

"And not to the best of mine either," the doctor told him, "Nothing I could find anyway."

Hannibal smiled, "I guess the next time she tells me something, I can take her word for it."

"Well I'd say she's lucky," she said to Hannibal, "A lot of girls like her come in here alone, it's always a matter of either they don't have anybody to help them, or don't think they can tell them."

"Well…I _am_ her father," Hannibal said, right now he believed every word of that as he added, "I can't help worrying about her, I want to make sure she's alright. But you're sure it couldn't be anything else?"

"How long has this been happening, Mr. Mattox?" the doctor asked.

Hannibal almost laughed at the name, it was the one Jean used when she went to the hospital so it made sense to use it here as well. "Well, a couple weeks ago she spent the night throwing up, but I figured that was from all the popcorn and ice cream she ate. And then a couple days later, I had an appendicitis and I'm told she threw up again shortly after I was wheeled off to surgery. That one though I guess we can attribute to stress." The doctor nodded. "And then, a few days ago she seemed to have a 24 hour case of stomach flu, I'm told that's been going around."

The doctor nodded again and said, "We've had a lot of them in here. But I'd say in your daughter's case, take her home and just make sure that her diet for the next couple of days is something bland. If she's not better after that, bring her in again and we'll run some more tests, but in my opinion her body is just rebelling against too much junk in a short amount of time." She gave him a knowing wink and said, "I have kids too, this isn't the first time I've seen this."

Hannibal couldn't help laughing in response. When the doctor left to see another patient, Hannibal went to the payphone and called the house and told Face and Murdock what he'd found out. A few minutes later Jean came out into the waiting room looking like she wanted to kill him.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

Jean went over to him and said, "The next time we come here I'm going to tell them to examine _you_, see how much _you_ like it."

Hannibal chuckled and asked her, "You feeling any better?"

"Yeah I suppose so," she said as she looked down to the floor, "I got sick again."

Hannibal put his arm around her and pulled her against him and told her, "Come on, I told Murdock about your current condition and he's making something special for dinner tonight."

Jean groaned and shoved her face into his shoulder. As they walked out of the clinic, Jean looked to where they parked her car, and she poked Hannibal in the stomach and told him, "Look over there!"

He did, and he saw the same woman who had escaped from their clutches at the airport.

"Let's get her," Jean said, starting to charge.

"Wait," Hannibal said as he jerked her back.

"What? Why?" Jean asked.

They looked as the woman got into a white corvette convertible and drove off, Hannibal nudged Jean to get into their car and he drove them out of there, but in the opposite direction, back to her house.

"Why didn't we go after her?" Jean asked.

"Because she will wait," Hannibal answered, "Right now my main concern is with _you_. You're not well and you're in no condition to go chasing that skirt all over the city with."

"But Hannibal…"

"Besides," he cut her off, "I can have Face run her plate number through the DMV and we can find out who owns the car, something just tells me that it's her own toy, and at the very least we'll find a different alias to look for her under, best case scenario is we'll get her actual name this time, and from there we'll find out where she lives."

He cocked his head to the side and saw Jean staring at him in disbelief and he smiled and said, "Just because we go through the front door doesn't mean we always blast the door down to show ourselves in. Sometimes you just have to come delivering the ice and they'll open it for you."

"More of your Mr. Lee philosophy?" Jean asked.

"Oh something like that," he answered.

"Hannibal," Jean said to him, "How long do you think you can keep that front going? Don't you think sooner or later your clients are going to realize that Mr. Lee's laundry is not run by a little Chinese man named Lee, but by an Irishman named Lee Bowman?"

Hannibal laughed and replied, "That's why we always send them there early in the morning when Bowman is open but out making deliveries."

* * *

Upon returning to the house, Hannibal and Jean were greeted at the front door by Murdock and Face, who was giving them advanced warning on dinner. Murdock had decided to make chicken soup, and while he'd kept as close of an eye on the pilot as was possible while he was cooking, he couldn't guarantee what was in it.

"How're you feeling, Saint?" Murdock asked.

"Lousy, but I'll live," she answered as she walked past him.

"I got a little treat made for you," he said.

"Oh Murdock," Jean covered her mouth.

"It's alright, it's alright," he told her as he got ahead of her and picked up a small dish off the dining room table.

Jean laughed when she saw what he was holding, a plain vanilla sundae, no hot fudge, no whipped cream, no cherry on top, just several scoops of vanilla ice cream, heavily decorated with pieces of peppermint.

"If that don't soothe your stomach, nothing will," he told her.

Jean laughed as she took the bowl and said, "Thanks, Murdock, I really appreciate it."

"Face," Hannibal pulled the lieutenant off to another part of the house were they wouldn't be interrupted and gave him a piece of paper with some numbers on it and said, "I need you to work your magic with the Department of Motor Vehicles and find out who owns the car with this license plate."

"How come?" Face asked.

"When we were leaving the doctor's office, we saw _that_ woman getting into _this_ car," Hannibal said, "I'm tired of these games, I want to find out who she is and _where_ she is so she won't see _us_ coming."

"Alright, but when I find it, what do we do?" Face asked him.

"We're going to find her and drag her in, with, or without Russo, we can get him separately," Hannibal told him.

"Alright, but what about Jean?" Face asked, "Do we take her with us when we find out?"

"No," Hannibal replied, "Let her rest, we'll take care of this one ourselves."

"Which leaves the question," Face said, "What _are_ we going to do with her? I mean, I know she's in this just as much as those idiots we busted at the base, but I just don't think I have it in me to hit a girl."

"She's not a girl, Face," Hannibal told him, "She is a cold blooded, calculative piece of work, and she's in trouble because she doesn't know that the four of us are going to be on her like Jaws on a Christmas roast."

Face nodded and said, "I'll go call the DMV, what kind of car was it?"

"A white corvette convertible," Hannibal answered.

"Hmmm...I wonder if they'll believe she rear ended me and just drove off…hit my car with that car and wouldn't the damages be about the same?"

"But if she was drunk, she wouldn't notice it," Hannibal said.

"Right, but if she just tore out of there, how would I know she was drunk?" Face asked.

"Oh…say by the way she made her getaway on a sidewalk and across three lawns in the process?" Hannibal asked.

Face considered it, and grinned, "I like the way you think, Hannibal."


	18. Chapter 18

"You know, Hannibal," Murdock said as he adjusted the burner's frequency and put a lid on the large pan of soup he'd cooked. They had the kitchen to themselves as Jean had gone upstairs to lie down, Face was on the phone with the DMV and B.A. was in the living room watching a game on TV. "After you called from the doctor's, I got curious and I called Jean's mother back in New York."

"How come?" Hannibal asked.

"Well I told her Jean's been sick lately and asked if it had ever happened before, if they might've ever seen this before when she was growing up" Murdock said, and nodded, "She said it's been about 15 years but apparently when she was a kid she was sick a lot."

"I know," Hannibal told him.

"No, I don't think you do," Murdock replied, "She said that Jean would get the flu about three times a year, each time lasting about two weeks, sometimes two months, and then one year in between two of those times, she just started throwing up a lot for no apparent reason. Kept on that way for about a month, and then suddenly it just went away."

"Any idea what it was?" Hannibal asked.

"Attributed to a variety," Murdock answered, "Twice it was because she stuffed herself on junk food, one time was from a sinus infection, and the other time the doctors thought it might've been an allergic reaction to something, but they never found out what, some seasonal thing."

"Well seasonal doesn't mean the same thing in California that it does in New York," Hannibal said, "Any idea which season it was in?"

Murdock shook his head, "She doesn't remember, Jean might though."

"Wouldn't hurt to ask," Hannibal agreed, "So I guess we can say that overall it's the same thing now, just a nice little variety of everything."

"Or…" Murdock offered, "There is something else to consider."

"What's that?"

"I think that it would be wise if we didn't rule out stress as a contributing factor to this," Murdock said, "You know Hannibal, when they catch sharks and pull them up on ships, they throw up from the stress of being captured and hauled up onboard, so if it can happen to a shark, then it could be what's wrong with Jean, couldn't it?"

"I suppose so," Hannibal was willing to consider it, "But it hasn't happened before."

"Well, consider the stress that she's been through recently," Murdock said, "First you were sick, and she was just as worried that we were that you were going to die, then she was attacked, and she thought if she told about it that you'd be killed, then we had to team up with Decker, and that's hardly an easy fact to digest. Add to the fact that the whole time we've been here, our marriage has been falling apart and now it's finally come to a rolling stop. That's a lot of stress for somebody to put up with, so it's possible that the anxiety all went to her stomach."

"It's a good point," Hannibal said, "But you'd think by now that things are calming down that her system would follow suit."

"Well maybe when we catch this witchy woman," Murdock suggested.

"I wanted to speak to you about that," Hannibal said, "Murdock, when Face gets us the address for that woman, the four of us are going out there tonight to find her and call an end to this whole game of tag."

Murdock nodded in understanding, "I'm sure Jean will be alright by herself for one night."

Face hung up the phone and walked into the kitchen on the tail of their conversation and asked, "Can't we give her one of B.A.'s night-night pills so she'll sleep through the whole thing and won't notice we're gone?"

Hannibal shook his head, "If she gets sick in the night she'll choke on it, we'll just have to set the record straight with her, she's not coming with us tonight, she's going to stay right here."

"Uh, Colonel," Murdock spoke up, "I think you better let me tell her, she might be a bit more inclined to listen to me."

"I think you're right," Hannibal agreed. He turned to the lieutenant and asked him, "What'd you find out, Face?"

"The car is registered to a woman named Cynthia Morrison, who as luck would have it, is very close by, I'd say about a half hour drive from here."

"That's beautiful," Hannibal said, eagerly anticipating the events to come, "You remember that Jean said we didn't have it in any of us to beat up a woman because it goes against how we were raised? Well," he grinned like the cat about to swallow the canary as he said, "I think tonight I'm going to be getting in touch with my feminine side."

"Hannibal, please, we're going to be eating soon," Face replied.

* * *

It got dark early and Jean retired to bed earlier than usual, which was fine by everybody else, especially Murdock since he had taken on the job of putting her to bed. She'd managed to stomach his soup, and equally as surprising, so did everybody else, and almost immediately after dinner she went upstairs to get ready for bed. Murdock had stood by as she changed into her pajamas in the bathroom and when she came out he helped her into bed and within a few minutes she fell asleep. He got a heavy blanket out of the closet and draped it over her to compensate for the hole in the bedspread, he didn't know if they were in for a cold snap or if the house tended to get drafty, but either way he didn't want her to be cold that night while they were gone.

He'd placed a glass of ginger ale full of ice cubes on the nightstand within her reach, and he made sure she was tucked in tightly and took a minute to listen to the even sounds of her light breathing as she slept. Leaning down, he lightly kissed her on her forehead and whispered into her ear, "I love you, Saint, we'll be back later." He got up and pointed to the other side of the bed and whispered, "Billy, you stay here and keep her safe." Then he turned and walked out the door and pulled it shut quietly behind him, then went down the stairs and joined the others.

"Is she asleep?" Hannibal asked.

Murdock nodded.

"Alright, everybody move out," Hannibal said, "We're going to crash this lady's party."

They grabbed their guns and went out to the van and left.

Right after they had gone, Jean opened her eyes, pushed back the covers and stood up. She also addressed the other side of the bed and said, "Billy, stay here, don't talk to anybody, and if someone tries to break in, kill them." She got dressed and put on her Air Force uniform, collected a gun out of a drawer in the dresser, and went down the stairs out the storage room window, and got in her car and left. But she wasn't following after them.

The last few days something had been weighing heavily on Jean's mind and she didn't dare bring it up with the others because they already had too much to deal with already. When the bust at the air base was made, they'd only managed to draw in the members of the Army who were involved with the human trafficking, but there was _still_ the matter of the Air Force to deal with. It was something she would've preferred having Murdock on her side to take care of, but that wasn't a possibility, so while they had their hands full with Russo and that Mata Hari, she was going to do whatever it took to bring down the rest of the airborne boys who were involved. She'd managed to get a location on where some of them were loading up their choppers and when, and if she timed this just right she ought to be able to catch them before takeoff.

It was already pitch dark out and she relied on the lights in the dashboard to tell her how fast she was going, and she saw the needle was already high and steadily climbing as she made sharp twists and turns off of the main road and onto rocky, bumpy paths that made the whole car jerk and jump as she sped along in the night. All common sense was telling her how little it would take for the car to roll over with her in it but she paid it no mind and just watched in a distant gaze as the speedometer climbed higher and higher. Hannibal had the jazz, she had the speed, she fed off the adrenaline like a heroin addict and the more risk was involved the more exhilarating it became for her. It was no wonder Murdock loved to fly, it gave him the opportunity to go twice as fast as any of them on the road and he could take the planes upside down and turn them on the side, anything that came into his head he could manipulate the whole plane, of any size, to do as he commanded it with the controls. Someday she would have to see if he could teach her how to fly a plane instead of a chopper.

She left her car behind about a mile from where the helicopters were, their lights were on and their rotors were starting up and the men, she saw about a dozen of them, were just about to finish loading them up with crates that contained drugs. Jean reached into her pocket and took out a packet of movie blood and made quick work of looking herself look like a massacre survivor, barely, then she saw the rotors slow to a whirring stop, so she took a second gun out from inside her jacket and fired it into the air, knowing the noise would draw some attention, and she was right. She tossed the gun down and hit the ground and rolled halfway down the hill before she was discovered by some of the men.

Her face had been coated in blood along with her clothes so it would be hard for any of them to recognize her from anywhere before, all they saw was her uniform and knew that she was one of them, and she'd been wounded and needed help. Two men lifted her up and carried her over to another chopper and one of the men climbed in it to fly her to a hospital, and Jean lay still and unresponsive through the rotor starting up, making that unforgettable, nerve wracking noise, and she remained that way as it first took off and she felt the skids leave the ground and they went straight up and then started to circle around and took off. That was when she shot up and reached across the cockpit and with her second gun she beat the pilot in the head and knocked him out, causing the helicopter to plummet suddenly and at a far faster rate than it had taken to get it up in the air.

* * *

When Hannibal said they were going to crash Cynthia Morrison's party that night, he hadn't known it at the time but he wasn't exaggerating. The address Face had obtained from the DMV was for a mansion that had a slew of cars parked at the gate. They crashed through the gate with the van and didn't stop until they'd gone through the south side wall of the house, quite literally crashing the party. As they jumped out of the van with their guns drawn, people scrambled in all directions, most got away but Hannibal determined that most of them weren't the real problem, only second rate associates. Only a handful of the people present had drawn their guns in response to the sudden intrusion and opened fire at them. The A-Team might've been outnumbered but they had the element of surprise and heavier firepower in their favor and were able to very quickly defuse the situation at hand, until there were only a few troublemakers left to deal with.

"Well, well," Hannibal said as they closed in on one of the male guests who looked very familiar, "If it isn't our old pal, Russo."

"Who the hell are you?" the man demanded to know.

"You know what?" Murdock asked, and thought about it for a second before adding, "You can just consider us the Americanized Stunt Squad, now everybody drop your guns and put your hands up and nobody dies, we don't promise nobody's going to get hurt."

"Now, there's just the little matter of your hostess," Hannibal told Russo, "Where is Morrison?"

He heard a gun cock behind him, followed by a woman's voice saying, "Right here, Smith."

Hannibal chanced turning around and saw her emerge from another room in a blood red dress with an automatic aimed at his head.

"I might've guessed," Hannibal said, "You didn't strike me as a person who'd had any qualms with shooting someone in the back."

"You should've minded your own business, Smith," Cynthia Morrison told him.

"Lady, you made this my business," Hannibal replied, "That young woman you left tied to the bed back at the cabin happens to be a very good friend of mine."

"_And_," Murdock said as he blindsided her and clocked her, "She just so happens to be my wife."

"Nice work, Captain," Hannibal said.

"Well," Murdock said as he wrapped his free hand over his now sore knuckles, "It's never easy to break with tradition but I had to do what I had to do."

"So now what do we do with them, Hannibal?" Face asked.

Hannibal seemed to consider their options and he said, "With Decker in the hospital, I wonder who's taken over his work for the time being?"

"Whoever we get in the army, I'm sure they'll just _love_ this little finding," Face said.

"You've got nothing on us," Cynthia said as she grabbed onto the table to support her weight as she pulled herself back up, "You're the ones trespassing on private property who'll be facing charges of criminal trespass, kidnapping and attempted murder."

"I don't think so, lady," Hannibal said as he backed into the front hall and picked up something, "You seem to forget our lovely parting gift from the airport." He held the briefcase up for both people to see and said, "$200,000 in cash, and I'm sure Uncle Sam will be _very_ interested in hearing just how you managed to get that kind of money. And once they find out about your overseas dealings with Russo here, and just what they involve: drugs, human trafficking, I'm sure the Army will be _most_ interested in hearing all the sordid little details, and if you're lucky you'll get a nice quick execution at sunrise, instead of 20 years hard time behind bars."

He found a phone and made a couple of calls and told the others that they would be having some company _very_ shortly.

"Man I wish the Saint was here to see this," Murdock said as he kept his gun aimed at Cynthia and said, "It'd do her a world of good to see this."

"We'll tell her about it when we get back," Hannibal told him.

"Speaking of which," Face said, "Shouldn't we be getting out of here? The MPs are going to be here any minute."

"That's the problem with you, Face," Hannibal said, "You always want to leave before the fat lady sings, you don't believe in sticking around to see the end of the performance."

Murdock went to the front door and said, "I think she's broken out the pitch pipe, Colonel, I see the red lights coming this way!"

Hannibal gave it a few more seconds and then said, "Alright, time to leave."

As soon as Hannibal had turned his back, Cynthia crouched on the floor and recollected her gun and fired at him before he had a chance to turn around or anybody had a chance to even see her. Hannibal heard the shot and just ducked down in time to feel the bullet rip through the sleeve on his jacket and just graze his arm. Murdock spun on his heel at the noise of the gunfire and jumped on Cynthia, and it quickly became an even match of both of them rolling on the ground struggling for the gun and also trying to knock each other out. Murdock gained the upper hand when he brought his foot up and kicked her in the face and sent her reeling back and falling on the floor; something that he seldom even did with men during a fight, but if any woman ever had it coming, this one did, for all the trouble she had caused, all the lost lives she'd been responsible for.

"Hannibal, you okay, man?" B.A. asked as he and Face rushed to their colonel's assistance.

"Yeah I'm fine," he answered as he got up, "Come on, Murdock, let's get out of here!"

"I'm right behind you, Colonel," Murdock replied as he throttled Morrison a couple of times for good measure before jumping to his feet and joining them as they got into the van, backed it out of the house and sped off in the opposite direction.

"Hannibal are you _sure_ you're alright?" Face asked during the drive back.

"Oh sure, just a scratch," he replied as he showed them his arm.

"Man, wait'll the Saint hears about this," Murdock said, "She'll never believe it."

"That reminds me," Hannibal leaned over and told B.A., "Stop the van, I'm getting out here." He was immediately bombarded with questions as to why and he managed to explain over all their questions, "There's always a chance that they might make Jean out as another target in an attempt to save their own hides, and if that's the case it'll be better if we're not _all_ at the house if it gets raided."

"Yeah but Hannibal, do you really think they could figure out who and where she is?" Face asked.

"I'm not in much mood for taking any chances, but if it _is_ going to happen, I'll prefer to _not_ have all of my men go down with me" he said, "Let's see, what time is it now?" He consulted his wristwatch, "almost midnight…you guys go back to my apartment, and if by 3 o' clock nobody's shown up, I'll get in touch with you. There's a late night talk show on the radio, Face, keep it on."

"Aw Hannibal, we're not going back to that one again are we?" Face asked, "You haven't used that one since we went out to San Rio Blanco to help Amy rescue her friend, Massey."

"I know, haven't you missed it?" Hannibal replied with a small grin, "Besides, I want to be alone when I go back, I intend to have a few words with Jean and I intend for them to be _private_."

"Whatever you say, Colonel," Murdock said, "You know that mi casa es su casa."

"I appreciate that, Murdock," he said.

* * *

Face drank another cup of coffee and struggled to keep his eyes open, "3 o' clock, why couldn't Hannibal pick an earlier show to call in on? For that matter, what kind of nitwit runs a radio talk show at 3 o' clock in the morning?"

"Insomniacs?" Murdock suggested as he played with the radio dials.

"Hey man, stop fooling around with that," B.A. told him, "It'll be on any minute, and I got a good idea that Hannibal's going to be the first one in tonight."

"What would ever possess him to go back to this old trick?" Face asked, "We're all here, he could've just called."

After a few minutes of waiting, they heard the announcer and heard the female host of the show come on the air and start taking calls from people who were having problems with their families. Face was rolling his eyes at this, but when the first line opened up to an older Irish woman, the three team members all looked at each other, they recognized that voice, through the accent and the high pitch and all. Murdock couldn't figure it out but somehow Hannibal must've been in the audience that night the theater was showing the Old Mother Riley movies, he sounded like a dead ringer for it.

"Here it is three o' clock in the morning, and I've not been to bed yet tonight and now it's tomorrow, and I'll tell you why I'm not in bed," the old woman said bordering on histrionics, "Me daughter's out…_me daughter's out_! And here's me waiting for her to come home!"

Face and Murdock looked at each other in awe, Jean was missing! But how?

"How old is your daughter?" the host asked.

"Oh she's 24 and about five months and three days, she gets to be of age and suddenly thinks she can do whatever she wants, and she doesn't care how it affects her poor mother," they could hear Hannibal milking this for all he was worth, "She doesn't care, as long as she's out having the time of her life, she simply doesn't care. I swear, no mother deserves to be put through what she's put me through."

The talk show host asked if she'd had problems with her daughter for long and they heard Hannibal respond as he blew his nose over his crocodile tears, "Only ever since she started dating, and here it is again: I don't know where she is, I don't know where she's gone, I don't know who she's with, I don't know what she's doing, I don't know what time it is, I hope she's alright."

Murdock tapped Face on the shoulder and asked him, "You don't think she's out with another man, do you?"

"Maybe he was right when he said the house could be raided," Face thought, "Maybe they just beat Hannibal to the punch of getting there."

"Shhhh," B.A. hissed through the corner of his mouth.

"That child doesn't care the pain she causes me, all the time I sit up worrying, night after night, I sat up all of yesterday waiting for her to come home tonight and now it's tomorrow. A poor mother gives her life for her daughter and this is how she repays me, that's all children are good for, they take advantage of you _if_ you let them and even if you don't they will still find a way to do it _and_ she knows it." Hannibal let in and out a strangled sigh and said, "It's times like this I'm thankful her father's not alive anymore…I sat up half my life waiting for him to come home, I refuse to stay up the other quarter of my life waiting for her."

"That's only three quarters," Murdock said to Face.

"Shhhh," B.A. told him.

"Our society places too much value on respecting the rights of those ungrateful brats we're forced to raise called children," Hannibal droned on, "Well now she's of plenty age and _when she comes home_," they could practically hear him rolling up his sleeves, "She's going to find out how she lost her father. Many's the time I told her before that any girl who stays out until 3 o' clock in the morning is only up to no good." They could hear him grin as he added, "This I know _from experience_."

"Tell me something, Murdock," Face said, "Do you get the idea that he's enjoying this a little too much?"

"Shhhh," Murdock and B.A. told him.

"The last time she came home late," Hannibal went on, "She told me that if I dare strike her she would get the police."

"And what was your response, Mrs. Riley?" the host asked.

"I told her not to bother, I didn't want any help," he answered, "Though I've got half a mind to call them tonight and pick her up, maybe spending a night in jail would do her some good."

"What do you make of it, Face?" Murdock asked.

"He said three quarters, that's reference to the time, meaning we meet up with him at a quarter to four for some reason…and I'd say he's either implying she simply ran out, or that she's been picked up by _some_ kind of police, and if that's the case…any way you look at it it's not good."

* * *

Jean didn't have any recollection of what had happened that night after she knocked the chopper pilot out and took over in the cockpit. What she _did_ know was that her head was killing her and it was swimming at the same time. Her eyes hurt too much to open them so she just turned over on her side to try and block out the noise she was hearing. She didn't feel any springs under her so knew she wasn't in a bed, instead it felt like she was on a concrete slab or something of the sort.

All of a sudden in the midst of the buzz of background voices somewhere out there, she heard one very distinctive voice enter the conversation as somebody apparently pushed his way through the crowd of, whatever they were wherever they were. Jean knew that she knew that voice, but it took her a minute to place the name to it, and when she did she opened her eyes and realized she was in a jail cell, and looking through the bars she saw two very familiar men standing on the opposite side looking in at her.

"Decker," she groaned in vexed tone as she slowly rolled off the metal bench built into the wall and found her way up on her feet. She staggered over to the bars and looked through them at the colonel, who not surprisingly looked a _lot_ better now than the last time she'd seen him at the hospital, even if he _was_ the last person she'd wanted to see, and of course Crane was right beside him. Jean smiled and said, more to herself than the men on the other side of the bars, "I'm hallucinating again, I've finally lost my mind."

Decker turned back to one of the cops and barked at him to open the cell and get her out of there. Jean was able to make out a few words about transfer or transportation, something that involved her being moved to Fort Knox, something about national security, and the large part that she was playing in the middle of it. It was all a bunch of senseless jibber-jabber where she was concerned, even the parts she could make out weren't making any sense. She tried to figure out what was going on but it went back to the fact that she couldn't remember what happened that night and she didn't even know where she was or what time or even what day it was.

Decker must've been convincing for the cops though because the cell door was opened and she was released into their custody. As they headed for the exit Jean looked down and saw that her blood stained Air Force uniform was gone, and instead now she was wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and her corporal's jacket, ah, that must've been how Decker was able to say she was with them and get her released to him.

Little bits and pieces were starting to come to her now. She remembered the chopper almost crashing after she knocked the pilot out, but she'd managed to get it up at just the last moment, and she'd doubled back around to the other choppers and managed to catch them right before they took off. The men there had been confused by the chopper's sudden return and came running to see what was the matter. 12 against 1 were never good odds but Jean had the element of surprise because they were expecting their own pilot, and were not expecting anyone to open fire on them as soon as the door opened. But she'd collected an M-16 from the chopper and shot at them, though nobody was hit, naturally.

And then there had been the explosion. She couldn't even remember how it had happened, but one of the other choppers that had just been minutes from takeoff with a shipment of drugs in tow had blown up. The impact knocked her down and some of the debris hit her, though she was in better condition than the men who had been much closer to it than she had. After that her memory started to blur, though she must've been able to radio for help because she remembered getting out of there when other choppers came in. She ran back to her car and drove out of there, and the first thing that had been on her mind was to get home and change out of her bloody clothes.

When she got home, she'd washed the blood off of her face and changed into her regular clothes, and her corporal's jacket. If she was going to die tonight _this_ was how she preferred to go out, as she really was, and with all the honor bestowed upon her from the A-Team as had been. She couldn't remember what had happened after that though, she had a vague memory of writing a note for Hannibal to find when he came to the house, but she couldn't remember what it was, or why she had assumed he would be home first, instead of all of them together.

"How'd you know where I was?" she asked Decker as they left the police station.

"Word travels fast when you're dealing with two exploded Air Force choppers," Decker told her.

"Ah," something else occurred to her and she asked him, "When did you get out of the hospital?"

"When we heard the news," Crane answered for him.

"Where is the A-Team?" Decker asked her.

Jean laughed, he never gave up, "You're talking to the wrong guy, they weren't even with me tonight."

"Well we _know_ that," he replied, "There was a bust made at a private residence that just reeks of Hannibal Smith and his men."

"Hey, you're not smelling so fresh yourself," Jean told him.

"Where are they, Miss Rhodes?"

"Now _why_ would I tell you that even if I knew?" Jean asked him, "Just because you got me out of the drunk tank that I don't even remember how I got there?"

"According to the police report you were found in the direct vicinity of the explosion and were noncompliant with the officers," Crane told her.

Jean rubbed a sore spot on the back of her head and said, "Doesn't ring a bell, and I know I wasn't drinking tonight. But for the life of me I can't think why I'd go back there either." Then it occurred to her that somebody must've knocked her out, but then how the cops got their hands on her she couldn't figure out.

"I don't know _what_ you had planned when you went out there tonight," Decker said to her, "But all you managed to do was kick over a rock and let the scorpions out."

"I might've guessed," Jean said, "We haven't dropped the anvil on them like we did those idiots from the army, meaning there are plenty more of them where those guys came from. Any idea where they are or where they're heading?"

"As far as we know they haven't left the ground yet," Crane said.

"No surprise, the drugs went up in smoke when the choppers blew up," Jean said, "So now it's a matter of finding them before they can reload." An idea came to her and she asked the colonel and the captain, "Do either of you know how to fly?"

"No," they both answered.

"Well then I guess that means that both of you are going to be at my mercy," Jean grinned and said, "This ought to be fun."


	19. Chapter 19

Hannibal watched the news coverage of the helicopter explosion on TV while he waited for the others to come to Jean's house. The fires had been burning for almost an hour, and still there was no clue as to _how_ it had happened or _what_ could have caused it. Hannibal didn't know _how_, but he did know _who_, somehow he just knew that Jean had had a part in all of this. He sat in her chair closest to the TV and looked down at the scribbled note gripped in his hand. He'd found the note shortly after arriving at the house and finding Jean gone. She'd left it for him on the dining room table with the lights on, so he couldn't have missed it, he didn't but he wished he had.

_Dear Hannibal,_

_If I'm not back by the time you find this letter, I'll probably either be locked up, or dead. I knew that the four of you were leaving tonight to track down Russo and that woman, even though you all tried keeping me in the dark. I appreciate your concerns, Hannibal, but I'm afraid it was all in vain. We'd forgotten about the other side of this ring, the Air Force, I would've preferred having Murdock with me tonight, but I know he's in his rightful place with the Team, so I'll be flying solo on this one. I already had one scrape with Death tonight, I don't know that I'll be returning this time. Thank you for all that you've done, I love you all very much._

_Jean_

He crumbled the note and refused to consider the possibilities behind it. He'd arrived at the house a couple of hours ago and immediately went upstairs to wake Jean up and tell her what had happened. Her room and the bathroom were both empty, the bed was made and she was gone. He ran in and out of every room, turning on all the lights, calling her name every step that he took, and then when he doubled back through the dining room he'd found the note. As a Colonel it was his job to keep his head when everybody else panicked, but he was close to doing it himself now as well. He'd gone through the house again trying to determine if anything was missing, anything Jean would've taken with her that would give him any idea what she'd had planned, but there was nothing. There was also, he noticed, no sign of a struggle, nothing to indicate anybody had come in and interrupted her as she was getting ready to leave. He didn't know what any of it meant and he didn't know what to make of it either.

Hannibal heard the van pull up outside and he knew he had to tell the others what had happened, and he wasn't looking forward to it. Murdock was the first one in the house, he practically broke through the door trying to get in, able to talk but he did it so fast they could hardly understand him as he asked, "What's going on, Hannibal? Where is she? What's happened? Is she alright?"

Hannibal gripped Murdock's arms lightly to get his attention and to restrain him from any sudden movements and said calmly, "Try and calm down, Murdock, I don't know what's happened to Jean, she was gone when I got here."

"I trust you saw the news on TV," Face said as he and B.A. stepped into the house behind Murdock.

Hannibal nodded, "Apparently Jean took it upon herself to go off and finish _our_ unfinished business.

A noise escaped Murdock's throat like a whimpering dog and he collapsed in the colonel's arms, as if all strength had suddenly left him. Hannibal wrapped an arm around the pilot and patted his back comfortingly, and with his free hand he pocketed Jean's note before Murdock had a chance to see it.

"By now that place has to be _crawling_ with army insects," Face said, "We wouldn't have a chance to get in there to look for her."

"I doubt she's still there," Hannibal replied, "She probably hightailed it as soon as things went boom."

"So where do we go to look for her now?" Face asked, then turned when he noticed B.A. wasn't saying anything. The sergeant had his head tilted back and his eyes boring holes into the ceiling and Face asked him, "What are you looking at?"

B.A. brought his gaze down to Face and asked him, "Man, don't you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Face replied.

Hannibal looked up to the ceiling and listened as well, so did Face and Murdock, and after a few seconds they heard it, a faint, distant, but unmistakable thwap-thwap-thwap-thwap-thwap of a helicopter's rotor.

"You don't think…" Face didn't finish the thought.

Hannibal kept his gaze upward and said, "Let's go find out."

They went out the front door and stood in the front yard looking up at the night sky to see the helicopter as it quickly came into view and was flying overhead, and they noticed, steadily coming down. It was a good thing that this side of town was practically abandoned because they could all imagine how much trouble they'd have on their hands if anybody happened to wake up and see a helicopter landing in the middle of the street at 4 o' clock in the morning.

The chopper came down smoothly but the skids touched down too fast and hit the street harder than was necessary, and Hannibal and Face took this as a good sign because there was only one person they knew who flew like that. The door opened and Jean all but fell out of the cockpit and onto the pavement, and the Team rushed towards her to find out what had happened.

"JEAN, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" Hannibal strained to be heard over the chopper's blades.

Jean doubled over and held her stomach but managed to keep from throwing up and nodded. Hannibal turned to Murdock and told him to get in the copter and cut the engine, Murdock saluted and climbed aboard, but as soon as the blades slowed and the noise died down, Murdock jumped out of the cockpit screaming, "Colonel, we got company!"

Crane climbed down from the back seat and held his hands up as he said, "It's alright, he's out."

"Jean, _what_ is going on?" Hannibal asked.

"It's a long story, Hannibal, and I don't have time to explain," Jean told him.

"Well _make_ time," Hannibal replied, "I just spent the last 3 hours wondering if you were dead or alive."

Jean looked like she was going to argue with him, but she gave in and told him about what happened with the choppers, and about Decker and Crane getting her out of jail, and then she told them the other side of what had happened.

* * *

Once again, Decker found himself securing a helicopter from his superiors in the middle of the night, with about as much understanding of _why_ he was doing it, as the men he was arguing with in order to get it. Once all of that hassle was dealt with, they were ready to take off, or so he thought, but Jean had to delay the takeoff because she was going to be sick, and she made sure to add that it was _again_.

"What's the matter with you?" Decker asked.

A brainstorm hit Jean. There wasn't any way Decker could possibly know that she and Murdock weren't married any longer, and he probably wouldn't find it out for some time. So for the time being she could use this little fact to her advantage, for now she could keep the illusion alive that they were still husband and wife, and she decided to have a little fun at Decker's expense. She turned to Decker and said nonchalantly, "I'm not sure, the doctors haven't gotten back to me with the tests yet…but I'm leaning towards morning sickness."

Decker looked like he could've been knocked over with a feather, "_What_?"

"Remember I told you to give us a few months and we'd settle the problem of the extra room in my house?" Jean patted her stomach lightly and added, "I think we've settled that little matter." And she promptly left to throw up.

Crane found her a few minutes later sitting on the ground and pawing at one eye with the cup of her palm.

"Are you alright, Miss Rhodes?" he asked.

"Allergies," she answered as she rubbed her itchy, watery eye, "Tell me something, Crane, by any chance does fireweed grow around here?"

"I don't know, Miss Rhodes," he answered.

"Insofar as I can tell that's the only thing I've ever been allergic to in my life, breathing in the pollen off of that plant, at least I _think_ that's what it's called," Jean said, "Always makes me _so_ sick."

"And you're not really pregnant, are you?" he asked.

Jean looked up at him and couldn't help smiling, "How did you know?"

"I can usually tell," he answered with a knowing smirk, "And I think I'm getting very good at telling when you say something just to get a rise out of the colonel."

Jean's smile widened and she said, "I really got him with that one, didn't I? Of course…it's obvious that we're going to need the others to get anywhere with this mess, but you realize that regardless of that outcome, I won't be able to let Decker take them in."

"I know it, I just don't know what you plan to do about it," Crane said to her.

"I do," Jean said as she stood up and pointed to the building near the back of the base, "If you would be so kind to escort me to the bathroom, I can get that problem solved _very_ easily."

Crane didn't have any idea what she had planned, but he led her into the brightly lit building and found the restroom and Jean went over to the sink and took a nasal spray bottle out of her jacket pocket and started unscrewing the top on it.

"Exactly what _are_ you doing?" Crane asked her.

Jean looked at his reflection behind her and answered, "I told your colonel that when the A-Team flies anywhere, B.A. has to be drugged, never willingly though mind you, and he's been catching on to a lot of their tricks, so I came up with a new one, he'd _never_ see this one coming." Jean held the bottle up and showed him that it didn't have solution in it, but some white powder. She'd crushed up several of the knockout pills she'd tried to slip Murdock when they first came back to her house and he stayed up all night watching Hannibal. She held the bottle under the faucet and turned the water on so it barely dripped, just enough to fill up the bottle and mix with the powder.

"Again I ask, _what_ are you doing?" Crane asked.

Jean smiled as she screwed the cap back on and said, "I was reading about this guy whose preferred method of killing people was to put cyanide in a nasal spray bottle, and he held it in his hand, covered with a Kleenex," and she pulled one out of her pocket and demonstrated as she continued, "He'd walk down the street, pretend to sneeze, squeeze the bottle so that the cyanide went directly into the face of whatever random person he was passing. And what happens when something sprays you in the face? The immediate natural reaction," she sucked in a noisy, surprised breath, "They inhale the cyanide, collapse immediately and people think they're having a heart attack. So…the same logic applies here, you hold the bottle, let out one big 'achoo', and send a little spritz of liquid knock-out into the poor unsuspecting fool's face…except here it's just a matter of trading one fool for another."

"But how long will it take to work?" Crane asked.

"Oh he'll be awake for the takeoff," Jean said, "But I have a feeling by the time we find the guys that he'll be off in dreamland."

Jean pocketed the bottle and Kleenex, and shifted the position she was standing in slightly, and she felt something. Crane saw the surprised look on her face and asked what it was, she told him to turn around and she reached into the waistband of her jeans and grabbed something and pulled out a stack of bills that was loosely banded together.

"What in the hell?" she asked as she thumbed through the large pile of hundred dollar bills, "Crane, where did you say the cops picked me up?"

"Within a mile of where the choppers exploded," he answered as he turned around and saw what she saw.

"You know, Crane," Jean scratched her head with her other hand as she said, "I don't know why, but I just got the _strangest_ idea I know who's behind what happened tonight."

"Who?"

"Those two jokers that Murdock and I picked up in the bar, remember them?" she asked, "Richardson and Colbert, once Decker got shot we forgot all about those clowns and only focused on bringing down the army's side of the trafficking ring. That's why I'm in this whole mess tonight to begin with."

"They sabotaged their own choppers?" he asked.

"Could be," Jean nodded, "Because they know we set them up, and I'm working alone so I was an easy target, I can't remember where I went after the explosion, but I had to be somewhere near by that they could spot me and figure me in as the perfect scapegoat." She flipped the stack of bills and said, "Killing me would be too easy, but if the authorities were to think I was intentionally blowing up the military's aircraft…well that's terrorism, isn't it? They don't necessarily shoot you for that, instead they probably just let you rot away in a tiny cell somewhere for the rest of your unnatural days…and _this_ would've been all they needed to see to think it was a professional hit on the army. Somehow I lucked out there, either those morons put it in the wrong pocket, or…I don't know. When I get my hands on them…"

Crane waited to hear the rest but she never said it, so he pressed the subject, "Well?"

She looked at him and said, "No, if I say it now that'll make it premeditated, so I'll wait and just kill them when it can be heat of the moment." She handed the money to him and said, "Now just remember when we go out there, when I sneeze, _don't_ breathe."

* * *

Crane heard Decker's head thunk back against his seat when the knockout mist finally took effect, by this time they were well off the ground and away from base. He leaned over to the cockpit and asked Jean, "Where're we going?"

"We've got to find the others," she said, "Murdock's more equipped to handle this bird than I am. By now they've probably heard about the explosion and if so, they'll either be out there looking for my charred remains, or…they'd probably still be back at my place. We'll circle back to the blast site first and if we don't find anything there, then we'll head over to my place, in any case I want to make sure that the SWAT team hasn't busted in and raided my home while I'm not there. I don't know exactly _what_ is going on tonight but I'm putting nothing past these psychos."

The smoke was still thick rising in the air and the fires hadn't completely been put out, large patches still glowed bright orange on the ground and could be seen perfectly from their view in the chopper.

"Where the hell is everybody?" Jean asked as she noted there wasn't anyone around anymore.

"There wasn't anything left for them to do," Crane told her, "Until everything's burnt out and cooled down they can't touch anything to even try and figure out what happened."

"Sounds like the city," Jean commented, "Anytime anything needs to be done, just leave everything hanging for about a week before they do anything. Hey Crane, do you have any idea what happened to the men that were here tonight? The ones caught in the explosion."

"Airlifted to a hospital," he said.

"I know that, I was there," she replied, "Do you know if any of them are dead?"

"No," he answered, "I don't."

Jean groaned under her breath and squeezed her eyes shut for a second as she considered those possibilities, and then a whole other set of possibilities occurred to her. Assuming Colbert and Richardson _were_ behind the explosions, the question still remained _why_ would they sabotage their own men? Those choppers were loaded and ready to go, probably a million dollars worth of heroin in them easy, that was a hell of a lot of profit to blow sky high just for a frame job.

"Uh oh," she thought of something else.

"What is it?" Crane asked her.

Jean ran the scenario through her mind once more and the picture became clearer, and she let out a few words that if mentioned in the A-Team's company, probably would've gotten her busted in the mouth. "They didn't know I was coming back, they had those choppers ready to blow at takeoff, they were going to kill their own men, it was only because _I'd_ come back around to kill them myself that they weren't _flying_ the choppers when they blew up. And after that…they must've seen me and figured they had a perfect way out, they leave me in the midst of it to take the rap while they get the hell out of the country."

"Why would they do that?" Crane asked.

* * *

"Why indeed?" Hannibal asked Jean when she finished telling them the whole story.

"Well it makes sense if you think about it, Colonel," Murdock said, "These guys have been doing these runs for quite a while, say they transport a million dollars' worth of drugs every mission, they keep a certain percentage of that and they could easily be sitting on twenty or thirty million dollars by now, maybe more. They know it's not going to last forever and their luck is going to run out somewhere so why not stop now while they're 20 million bucks ahead of the game? The heat's on, they know it, they've lost men, they made men lost, it's a blood sport and they're tired of playing, so they're cashing in their chips and getting ready to head out somewhere where nobody's heard of them and nobody's looking for them and they can live rich and peacefully on some island somewhere for the rest of their days."

"At the expense of their partners' lives," Face noted.

Murdock shrugged and replied, "Blood sports usually _do_ come down to solo players, they're not big on teams."

"And that's why they're going to lose now," Hannibal said.

"But how're we going to find them?" Jean asked, "What if they're already gone?"

Hannibal was able to read between the lines as she spoke, Jean wouldn't say it but it was obvious to him anyway that she was worried that if they had already left the country that it was her fault for not figuring out sooner who was behind what was going on, and for all the time wasted that night in coming to the answer.

Murdock must've picked up on it as well because he went over to her and squeezed her shoulder supportively and told her, "Don't worry, Saint, there's not enough distance in the world we can't follow them across, wherever they are we're _going_ to get them, isn't that right, Colonel?"

"Absolutely," Hannibal replied, "But I wouldn't worry, Jean, I doubt they've left yet."

"But Hannibal, they've already got over two hours on us," she said.

"This is true," he said, "But you'll recall the fable of the tortoise and the hare."

"Hannibal, please, we're not in the mood for any of your proverbs," Jean told him.

Hannibal shrugged innocently and responded, "I'm just saying, a good head start doesn't guarantee a clean getaway."

"So what do we do now?" she asked.

"I have an idea where they may be heading," Hannibal explained, "Face and I'll go up with Murdock and get a bird's eye view of the location, you and Crane go with B.A., we'll stay in touch through the radio."

"Go where?" B.A. asked.

"There's a private heliport that operates near the border leading into Mexico, you remember, we made an emergency landing there once when the helicopter we were using got hit and we lost the fuel," Hannibal said.

"Oh yeah I remember that place," Face said, "I remember I managed to talk those people into letting us _borrow_ another chopper for the remainder of the mission."

B.A. made a sour face in remembrance and replied, "Yeah I remember, you knocked me out and I woke up just in time for the crash landing."

"That wasn't a crash, that was just a sudden stop," Murdock told him.

B.A. ignored him and said, "Yeah I know where the place is, Hannibal, I can get us there."

"Good, this time of night there shouldn't be anybody around. So it would be very easy for them to get in and make off with a helicopter, and it wouldn't surprise me if they stashed one of _theirs_ there to hide it out in the open so it'd be ready to go in a moment's notice."

"What about ol' Sleeping Ugly?" Jean asked as she pointed towards Decker in the back of the copter..

"We'll take him with us," Hannibal said, "I'm sure when he wakes up he'll enjoy the view, to say nothing of Murdock's flying capabilities."

Off in the distance they could hear sirens and a minute later could see red and blue lights starting to come up the far end of the road leading into the city.

"Uh oh, looks like somebody called in seeing the chopper," Hannibal said, "Come on, Murdock, let's get out of here."

A quick round of goodbyes was said and Face and Hannibal climbed into the helicopter with the guns in tow that they figured they would need, and Jean stayed back with B.A. and Crane, then at the last minute when the helicopter started to leave the ground, Jean ran up to it and jumped onto the skid and climbed up and got her foot on the threshold when they realized they had a stowaway. The doors hadn't closed yet and Hannibal leaned over from where he sat in the back with Decker and screamed at her, "You can't come with us!"

"You're not stopping me, Hannibal," Jean told him.

Hannibal got as close to her as he could without falling out and said again with heavy emphasis, "YOU CAN'T COME WITH US!"

"THEN THROW ME OFF!" Jean replied, with as much emphasis in her own voice.

However they had already left the ground and he knew he couldn't do that, and he could see the police cars coming up the street and knew going back down wasn't an option either, so with a little difficulty and a lot of careful maneuvering, he and Face managed to get her into the back with Hannibal and the still unconscious Decker, and got the doors closed as Murdock got them over a hundred feet off the ground and turned it around. It was a tight fit and Jean couldn't help commenting on the absurdity of making helicopters to only seat four people, summing it up, "A sedan built to hold four people, that makes sense, but a military copter? What sense does that make?"

"Are you crazy?" Hannibal asked Jean, ignoring her comment.

"Hannibal, I'm in this just as much as the rest of you are, I intend to see it through _and_ I intend to be there when we first land," she said, "Besides, I want to be around when Decker comes to, I think it'll be an interesting incident, and besides, somebody's got to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't try taking you guys in when this is all over, after all," she grinned mischievously and said, "I can't have anything happen to my baby's father…or _grand_father for that matter," she looked back at Hannibal.

Hannibal just chuckled at that thought.

"Hey Saint," Murdock called back to her, and she leaned over to see what he wanted and he asked her, "So how exactly did you get that nose spray thing to work? That'll be perfect the next time we gotta lug the big mudsucker with us."

"Yeah, but it'll probably only work once," Face reminded him, "I don't think he'll be dumb enough to let you sneeze on him twice. You'll be lucky if he doesn't kill you for it the first time."

"Hey Hannibal," Face turned in his seat and pointed back to Decker, "How're we going to wake him up? We're going to have enough problems when we find those two idiots without him holding things up."

"I got an idea, let me try," Jean leaned over towards Decker and yelled into his ear, "Hey Decker, get up, Lynch is being brought in to replace you!"

Decker shot up before he could even open his eyes, and a minute later when he did he looked around and grimaced at his newfound company.

"Morning, Decker," Hannibal said with a smirk, "Sleep well?"

"What's going on?" Decker asked.

"What's going on is we're about to trap us two big fat rats," Jean answered, "And when we _do_, we' gonna carve them up _real_ nice."

Decker looked past her and glared at Hannibal and asked him, "Where did _you_ come from?"

"Well now really, Decker, didn't you have that talk with your parents when you were a kid?" Hannibal asked humorously.

"Oh shut up," he replied.

Jean leaned over to the cockpit and asked Face, "What time is it?"

Face checked his watch and said, "Quarter after four."

"Sun's going to be coming up soon," Jean said, "Let's say we catch these guys at the heliport, is that going to help or hurt us?"

"Well they'll be able to see us, but more importantly we'll be able to see them," Face answered, "So it has to help."

"Seven of us against two of them," Jean said, "Those are some _crazy_ odds."

"Not so crazy as one woman against 12 army personnel smugglers," Hannibal reminded her.

"It worked," she replied.

"Only because the choppers exploded, if that hadn't happened and they hadn't all gotten knocked down and impaled with the debris, what do you think would've happened to you tonight?"

"You read my note, you know what I thought," Jean answered.

"What note?" Murdock asked.

"It's not important," Hannibal responded.

Jean smiled ominously at him and said, "I thought you didn't like any secrets between your Teammates."

"Hannibal?" Murdock said questioningly.

"It's alright, Murdock," Hannibal assured him, "Everything's going to be alright."

* * *

Face looked down below and saw the well lit departure path and pointed to a helicopter on the landing pad that had just started spinning its rotor, "There they are!"

Jean leaned over to see what he saw and she asked, taking in the size of the place, "This is a _private_ port? What's a public one look like?"

"Alright everybody," Hannibal said as he picked up his machine gun, "Brace yourselves, and get ready, Murdock, take us down, Face, you get on the radio to B.A. and let him know we've arrived and they're about to takeoff."

"What do I do?" Jean asked him.

"You try and stay out of my way," Hannibal told her, "I don't want to fall back and hit you."

That was easier said than done and Jean was practically in Decker's lap as Hannibal threw the door open on his side and opened fire on the other chopper, managing to blast the windshield into Swiss cheese, though he seemed to miss both men inside, although it quickly altered their plans about flying and they scrambled to get out of the helicopter. Murdock took them down for a landing and everybody jumped out armed and ready for a fight, and they got one.

Richardson and Colbert may have been outnumbered but they hadn't come unprepared; as soon as they hit the ground they returned fire and managed to put a nice straight line of holes into the side of their chopper and Hannibal and Face both found themselves hitting the dirt to avoid being the next target. Murdock covered Face and blasted straight at them, though he missed, whether intentionally as usual or this time just a sudden run of bad luck, was anybody's guess.

Two new lights suddenly made for much confusion before the others were able to see that it was the headlights from B.A.'s van as he drove up very quickly and came to a screeching stop in the middle of the departure zone. He and Crane were out of the van and automatically retaliating against the two trigger happy pilots; unfortunately they soon found out that their competition was larger than they'd originally thought. During the middle of the fight, shots rang out from somewhere behind them and Face and Hannibal both chanced turning around to see what had happened, and saw more men coming their way, all with automatic weapons and no problem using them. For a split second Jean saw the position they'd put themselves in and knew that she had only time to try and help one of them before the trigger was pulled; she ran up behind Face and tackled him to the ground a fraction of a second before the shot rang out and she heard it just fly past her head.

Hannibal turned and saw Face laying facedown on the ground with Jean on top of him and realized what had happened, and he returned his attention to the men in front of him and resumed shooting. B.A. was able to step in and cover Hannibal and deal with the new arrivals.

"You alright, Face?" Jean asked as they started to get up.

"I'm alright," he answered.

"Good, let's kill them!" Jean said.

She was out for blood now and had no bother for a gun anymore. She tackled the first man nearest to her, which turned out to be Richardson, and she threw her weight against him and knocked him to the ground. She straddled his waist and had her hands locked around his throat and was bashing his head against the ground. But after a short while that stopped being fulfilling so she grabbed a fistful of the hair on top of his head and used it to jerk his head up so she could punch him in the jaw with her other hand. He moaned and his head snapped back with a particularly loud, pronounced SNAP and when that happened, she moved up and started kicking him in the ribs until he was screaming. Finally he managed to push her off of him and knock her down instead, but as he got to his feet Face came up and clocked him. Richardson, half dazed, turned on one foot and grabbed Face's hand and squeezed it in a bone-crushing grip; Face looked like he was starting to double over but instead he head-butted Richardson in his stomach and knocked him down again.

Jean got up again, and, convinced that Richardson wasn't going anywhere anytime soon based on the noise he was making and the resemblance he suddenly bore to being reincarnated as a rag, she turned her attention to someone else and the process started again. The second man she tried jumping hadn't been taken by surprise enough that he lost the grip on his gun like Richardson had, and he turned and Jean grabbed the gun as well and a struggle for it ensued. It came to an abrupt end, however, when the man shoved his weight against her and, using her lack of equilibrium to his advantage, brought his M-16 back like a baseball bat about to bunt a ball and used it to smash into both sets of her ribs simultaneously.

The scream that pierced the early morning air took a few seconds to rise to surface as the pain had been numbed initially at the point of impact, but immediately afterward the searing pain hit Jean and she fell back and hit the ground, the front of her shirt immediately coated in blood as she half rolled off her back onto one side to the other, as if her body couldn't decide what it was doing.

"Jean!" Murdock turned when he heard her screams and saw her lying on the ground covered in her own blood and he lost it. He turned his attention back to the man in front of him and used his own rifle to smash him in the face, knocking him out quickly and effectively. Murdock kept the Ruger clutched in one hand as he ran over to where Jean had fallen and felt his blood run cold as he took in the visible damage. "My God…"

Jean's face was contorted in unimaginable pain and she wasn't even able to scream anymore. Her hands tried to touch the front of her shirt but one hand made its way back up to her mouth as she let out a jagged breath that would've been a scream if any sound could've come out, and her whole body was shaking as she tried breathing. Murdock knelt down beside her and tried to figure out what had to be done before they could try moving her to a hospital, Jean sucked in a noisy, ragged breath that left her again almost immediately as she told him, "Not as bad as it looks, blood's fake!"

But the pain sure as hell wasn't and that was what Murdock was focusing on. Somehow he was able to block out the noise of the gunfire as he looked around for another chopper that they could use to airlift her out of there, and he spotted one about a hundred yards away, getting her to it would be the hard part but it had to be done. His ears opened again to the sounds of the firefight and he felt his blood freeze in his veins as one particularly loud shot went off, followed by a short but loud scream, one that he could identify. Jean looked up at him and they said simultaneously in horror, "Hannibal!"

Hannibal was laying on the ground clutching his shoulder, he could feel his blood flowing freely down his arm and over his glove. Another shot went off, it practically exploded in his ear it was so close, but it wasn't aimed at him, it was aimed at the man who shot him. He looked up to see who had fired, and was mildly surprised to see it had been Decker. The other colonel pocketed his gun and came over to him and knelt down beside him and asked, sounding nonchalant, "How're you feeling, Smith?"

Hannibal choked on a pained laugh and said weakly, "Feels like I got a bullet in my shoulder."

The noises from the fighting were starting to die down, and since he couldn't see it for himself, Hannibal took it as a good sign. All of a sudden his eyelids felt like they each weighed 40 pounds and he closed them for a second, then felt somebody slap his face and heard Decker tell him, "Wake up, Smith."

"I've been awake all night," Hannibal tiredly responded, suddenly feeling all strength leaving him, "Let me sleep."

"Not yet," Decker told him, and looking at something or somebody past Hannibal, he nodded his head in that direction. Hannibal heard somebody's footsteps coming towards him, and since he couldn't right off hand identify the sound of that person walking, he assumed it was Crane, and it was.

"Murdock says he can fly them out of here and get to the hospital in about 15 minutes," Crane told Decker, "We just gotta get them loaded up."

"Hear that, Smith?" Decker asked into his ear.

"I'm tired, _not_ deaf," Hannibal answered.

"Can you get up?" Decker asked him.

"_Yes_ I can get up," Hannibal said, still clutching his shoulder as he proceeded to do so, "What do you mean 'them'? Who is 'them'?"

"Rhodes was injured, looks like broken ribs."

"Which ones?" Hannibal asked.

"All of them."

Hannibal cursed under his breath as he looked up at the sky that had gone from pitch dark to dimly gray when he wasn't looking. The sun would be up soon, another day had started, and what a hell of a way to start it.

"Come on, Smith," Decker said as he grabbed Hannibal's good arm.

Hannibal pushed Decker's hand away and insisted, "I can walk myself, thank you very much."

When he was close enough for the others to see, he could also see all the blood drain out of Templeton's face as he ran over to him, "Oh my God, Hannibal!"

"It's alright, just a shoulder wound," Hannibal said, damned if he was going to let on to how bad it really was, even if they didn't believe his front.

"Come on, Hannibal," Face said, "Murdock's gonna get you guys to the hospital."

"I know," Hannibal replied calmly as he went with the lieutenant over to the chopper. He stopped to turn back to Decker and asked, "Care to join us, Roderick?"

"No thanks," Decker answered cynically, "We've got our hands full with the mess here and I've spent enough time in the hospital to last the rest of my life…" he flashed a knowing smirk to Hannibal and added, "I'll catch up to you later."

"I'll hold you to it, Decker," Hannibal replied as he got in the chopper.

This was a much larger helicopter than the one they'd flown out in, so there was plenty of room for everybody to fit in, and they had Jean laying on the floor in the back since she couldn't sit up. Hannibal made his way to the back with her, but first noted B.A.'s unconscious form slumped forward in one of the seats and asked Murdock, "How'd you manage to get him in here?"

"Just those two little magic words, colonel," Murdock answered, "Ah and choo!"

Hannibal chuckled lightly and sat down on the floor beside Jean and asked her, "How ya feeling, kid?"

Jean glared at him through one open eye as if to ask 'are you serious?' Then she noticed the dark red stain overtaking the sleeve of his jacket and said, "You're hit!"

"That's why I'm riding back here with you," Hannibal said, "This is the injured party section only. Murdock's gonna fly us out to the hospital and get both of us patched up." He pulled back his jacket and revealed the half hearted bandage job he'd managed to get done right after he got hit.

Jean closed her eyes halfway through his sentence and with his good arm, Hannibal reached down and pinched Jean to keep her awake, and he told her, "I know you're in a lot of pain, kid, but I need you to do something for me and I know it's going to hurt a lot."

"What is it?" she asked quietly.

"Sing," Hannibal answered.

Jean opened her eyes wide to look at him like he'd gone crazy and asked, "What?"

Hannibal pointed to the front and said, "They can't see you from up front, Murdock's gotta know that you're gonna be alright, if you sing then you're going to have to take in air and keep breathing, and as long as you're breathing then they know you're still alive."

"Oh Hannibal," Jean groaned as she closed her eyes.

"No, don't fall asleep yet," he told her, "Now come on, I'm serious."

"Hannibal, I can't think of any songs," Jean told him as she closed her eyes again.

Hannibal pinched her again to keep her eyes open, and he forced himself up and leaned over the back of the seats and said to Murdock, "Murdock, what's that song you sing when you fly?"

"Which one, Colonel?" Murdock asked.

"Oh you know, how does it go?" Hannibal recited the first lines he could think of, "Eighty men tried and eighty men died, and now they're buried together along the countryside."

Murdock picked up on the tune and mechanically picked up where the colonel left off, "Now Snoopy had sworn that he'd get that man, So he asked the Great Pumpkin for a new battle plan. He challenged the German to a real dogfight,  
While the Baron was laughing, he got him in his sight."

Reluctantly, Face joined in with the song and while they got it started, Hannibal ducked back down to the floor beside Jean and made sure she was awake and also following suit when they came to the next verse:

"That bloody Red Baron was in a fix,

He tried everything but he'd run out of tricks,

Snoopy fired once and he fired twice,

And that bloody Red Baron went spinning out of sight.

"Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty or more,

The bloody Red Baron was rolling up the score,

Eighty men died trying to end that spree

Of the bloody Red Baron of Germany."

Jean was mouthing the lyrics more than anything, sound was only coming out of her half of the time, but it was enough to keep the others satisfied that she was still with them. Hannibal stopped singing long enough to ask her, "Incidentally, at a choice between the two of us, _why_ did you throw yourself on Face?"

Jean offered a weak smile and replied, "Somehow I figured that you would be alright no matter what happened, Face I'm not as certain about, he's younger and not as experienced, so we gotta look out for him, you on the other hand, they'll never be able to stop you."

Hannibal smiled in return and told her, "You done good, corporal, I commend you," and he leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head, and they resumed singing with the others.

Hannibal was as audible as the rest of them, but his eyelids were growing heavier, and he felt himself growing weaker, and despite his attempts to stay awake, he felt his eyes close, and he didn't have the strength to open them up again, and then slowly, sound became distorted, and then everything went quiet.

Author's note: The lyrics used in this chapter belong to The Royal Guardsmen's song "Snoopy vs. the Red Baron". Interestingly enough in the novelization of the episode "A Small and Deadly War", Murdock sings this instead of the Hearse Song.


	20. Chapter 20

The first thing Hannibal saw when he opened his eyes was Maggie standing over him.

"I must still be alive," he tiredly grumbled, "Because there aren't going to be any angels where I'm going when I die."

Maggie smiled and said, "You're a long ways off, Hannibal Smith."

He lay back and started to close his eyes again when something occurred to him and he sat up and asked, "Where'd you come from? What's going on? Where're the others?"

"Shhhh," Maggie told him and added quietly, "You'll wake them."

"Hmm?" Hannibal ignored the pain in his shoulder and turned to the side and saw Face, B.A. and Murdock all slumped together on the couch asleep. By now the sun was up and pouring in through the windows, and Hannibal realized they weren't in the hospital, but at Maggie's house in Bad Rock.

"When did we get here?" he asked.

"About three hours ago," Maggie answered, "You were already unconscious when they brought you in."

"Apparently," Hannibal said as he craned his head down to look at the new bandages covering his shoulder, "Nice work."

"You got lucky," she told him, "Another quarter inch in and you wouldn't have much use of this arm for quite a while. As it is, provided you don't use it too much and take it easy for the next few days, you should be back to your old annoying self within a couple of weeks."

"That's nice," Hannibal yawned, then he thought of something else and asked, "Where's Jean?"

"In the next room, I had to sedate her," Maggie answered.

"Her ribs are broken?"

"No," Maggie shook her head, "She lucked out, not even a fracture, just plenty of bruises, and plenty of pain."

"I knew that already," Hannibal said.

"Yeah well, don't look for it to get any better in the next few days," Maggie told him, "Murdock called in a favor."

"What kind of favor?"

"A prescription for Hydromorphone, I agreed to do it because I think he's right."

Hannibal's head was still half swimming so the picture wasn't coming in too clearly, but he was able to see it well enough to remember that Jean had been off those pills for over a year. But he nodded, surprising even himself, and said, "He probably is. I suppose he didn't tell you that she's had a…slight addiction problem."

"He didn't," Maggie replied, "If he had, I wouldn't have given it to him."

Hannibal nodded and said, "Well, I know our society likes to treat addiction and consumption of said addictives as either an all or nothing thing, but I've always seen truly beating addiction as going from drinking whiskey round the clock, to having a beer at dinner without it escalating, not putting all liquor out of sight and mind. This will be her test to see if she rises or falls."

"And if she does?" Maggie asked.

Hannibal looked down at his watch just to simply avoid looking directly at Maggie as he explained, "Jean's got a lot going for her, and she knows it, it was her decision to quit the first time, I think she'll pass, and if she doesn't, Murdock will be there to pick her up. He doesn't think I know it, but he's had some experience there himself, so if anybody can help Jean, it's him."

"Hope you're right, Hannibal," she replied, "Unfortunately I know only too well how many times addictions like these start because they can't be helped in the first place. As much screaming as she did just getting settled on the table, I'd say she's going to have to be doped to the gills just to breathe regularly for the next few days."

"So when…" Hannibal tried moving and felt recoil in his whole shoulder, "When do you recommend we get out of here?"

"In your present conditions?" she asked, sounding slightly shocked, "Not for a couple of days."

"I had a feeling you'd say that," he said.

* * *

"So tell me, Murdock," Hannibal said later when the others had woken up, "Why'd you bring us _here_ instead of to the hospital?"

"Are you complaining, Hannibal?" Face asked.

"Not at all, just curious," he responded.

"Well for one thing I figured you'd have a warmer reception towards the doctor that way," Murdock answered, "And besides, it seems to me we've spent enough time in hospitals lately."

"No argument there," Hannibal noted, "This certainly beats the paper gown and those annoying nurses who insist on poking their heads in every hour to make sure you're asleep. How's Jean?"

"Still blissfully knocked out," Murdock answered, "She may not have broken anything but you wouldn't know the difference from the noise she was making earlier, Colonel."

"I'll believe it," he replied, then added in a quieter voice so what he said next was just between the two of them, "But Murdock, do you really think it was a good idea having Maggie fill out a prescription for those morphine pills?"

Murdock looked at the Colonel with a similar expression to if he was facing an interrogation back in the army, and he nodded and said firmly, "Yes, Colonel, I believe it's necessary."

"You realize what could happen," Hannibal said.

Murdock nodded again and said, "I know, but Hannibal I just couldn't justify leaving her in pain, it wouldn't have been right, no matter what happens to her now."

Hannibal nodded, "I know, Murdock." He sat up and noticed that B.A. and Face had left the room and he said to the pilot, "Maggie was telling me that Jean's put on a little weight since she last examined her when she had that concussion, and she says that may have helped Jean because her ribs have a little cushioning to them now."

Murdock nodded sheepishly and told him, "I'd noticed." He met Hannibal's gaze and added, "That's why you thought she was pregnant, wasn't it?"

"Well…I guess even with a 103 degree fever I could notice there was a little more of her than there was when we last saw her," Hannibal said with a coy smile, "Though the others never seemed to catch on, or they just didn't want to say anything."

"Well, I like it," Murdock said, "I wouldn't want a wife that's too skinny."

"True, one of you like that is bad enough," Hannibal joked.

Murdock shot a mock glare back at Hannibal and stuck his tongue out at him.

"Aha!" Hannibal said as he pointed, "That's it, there's the human zipper."

"I'll tell you the truth, Hannibal," Murdock said as he scratched behind one ear, "I think I like her better this way…I don't think she was taking too good of care of herself before."

Hannibal nodded. "One thing I noticed when we first met her was how different she looked compared to the picture her parents had of her, and none of it for the better, I especially noticed all the weight she'd lost since the picture was taken. That, mixed with that dead look in her eyes, made her look two layers short of a skeleton still wearing its skin, at least now she's looking more like an actual person. So tell me, Captain, do you really see the two of you getting married again someday?"

Murdock nodded hopefully and said, "I'd like to, Colonel, I'd like the chance to do things right."

They could hear moans coming from the next room, a sign that Jean had either woken up or at least was near consciousness.

"I think you're going to get your chance," Hannibal told him.

Murdock went into the next room to see what was the matter and he saw Jean lying on the table, trying to move but quickly getting nowhere with it. Maggie had propped her head up slightly so that when she woke up she could sit up to swallow without a risk of choking.

"Hey Saint, how're you feeling?" he asked as he went over to her.

Jean groaned and her whole body shook as every attempted breath was broken down into three or four shorter ragged breaths. She finally managed to get out a weak, "Murdock, get me up."

"Sorry, Saint," he shook his head, "That's not why you're hurting, unfortunately Maggie said your ribs are gonna be like that for a few days before it gets any better."

Jean groaned and flopped her head back against the table.

"Don' worry, don' worry," Murdock said in a deeper, brassier voice as he shook his head and added, "Everyt'ing's okay." He reached into his pocket and took out a pill bottle and showed her, "I got you something that's gonna make you feel better."

Jean saw the label on the bottle and sucked in a pained sob as she tried to breathe first and then speak. Murdock didn't wait to hear what she was trying to say though, he squeezed her hand lightly since it was one of the few places he didn't have to worry about hurting her just by touching her and he said, "It's alright, there's some water on the desk over here, we'll pop a couple of these babies in you and you won't remember where you even are."

"I'm very lucky," Jean said so quietly that he almost missed it.

Murdock turned back from where he was pouring a glass of water from the pitcher on the desk and asked her, "What's that?"

"I said," Jean was able to raise her voice a little higher now, "I'm very lucky, I'm very lucky that you love me, because right now you're holding my life in your hands, and knowing about me what you do, you know that."

Murdock smiled at her as he brought her a glass of water and two pills and told her, "You're going to be fine…you've already beaten yourself up enough to stay off these things, but if you need them, then you need them, there's no point in suffering if you don't have to."

Jean took the glass in one hand and the pills in the other but she didn't take them, her hands shook as she looked down at the pills and Murdock knew from where she was standing, it was like looking down the side of a cliff before plunging off. Like reopening Pandora's Box right after you got the lid nailed down again.

"It'll be alright, Saint," Murdock told her, "I know you, you never _really_ got hooked on these things before, you'll be alright now."

He decided to help her and he took the pills and dropped them onto the back of her tongue and helped steady her hand as she drank the water and waited as she swallowed them.

"Murdock, where's Hannibal? What happened to him?" Jean asked.

"He's alright, he's in the next room," Murdock said, "He's been awake for a couple hours now."

Jean's whole body started shaking and Murdock thought she was going to be sick again, but she shook her head, explaining, "I was just so scared that he wasn't going to make it, when he passed out and we couldn't wake him up, and we weren't anywhere near here yet…"

"I know," Murdock told her, "You stay in this racket as long as we have, it never gets easier to deal with, just after a while you get used to it."

"If he would've died…" Jean started to say.

"But he didn't, Maggie got the bullet out and got him sewed up _real_ nice," Murdock said, "And she said he'll be good as new in a few days, so long as he takes it easy."

"Which he _never_ does," Jean replied.

"He will," Murdock said with a knowing smile, "We'll force him."

Jean smiled in return and tried to laugh but it hurt her too much still. She grabbed the pill bottle and looked at it for a minute, Murdock told her, "Just remember, there's a lot more of you than there is of _those_, and something _that_ small can't overtake all of _that_," he pointed to her.

She nodded and said in response, "I hope you're right, Murdock. When're we getting out of here?"

* * *

"Hannibal, speaking as a physician I'd like to point out that it is _not_ in your best interest to go tearing off again already," Maggie told the persistent colonel as he stood by the door, waiting for B.A. and Face to get back with Maggie's car and the van.

"I appreciate your professional opinion, Maggie, but I think I'd do a better job recovering back at my own place," Hannibal said, "Here we've got a whole houseful of people, at least once I get back to L.A. I can be alone."

"I'm sorry? I must've missed something," she said to him, "I was under the impression that you were currently staying with Murdock and his wife."

"I was," Hannibal said, "But if I go back to that house with those crazy people then I'm going to be getting bedsores all day with all of them hovering over me making sure I don't so much as breathe wrong, lest it upset my stitches."

Maggie chuckled and told him, "It wouldn't be a bad idea for a couple of days. Keep this up, Hannibal and you'll be able to qualify for a frequent flyer program on my operating table."

Hannibal waved it off dismissively and said, "Ah I've been through worse. They didn't give me the Purple Heart for nothing."

"And where is it?" Maggie asked coyly.

Hannibal chuckled dryly in response and told her, "I don't have it anymore."

"Mm-hmm," she nodded.

A determined look came over Hannibal's face and he walked away from the screen door and asked, "What did you do with that jacket Jean was wearing when they brought her in?"

She watched him tear off into the next room and told him, "It's over the laundry hamper, why? What's the problem?"

"No problem," Hannibal said as he found the discarded jacket and turned it over to find the right side of it, "No problem whatsoever." He turned it inside out and right side out again and pointed to the Purple Heart on the breast pocket and said, "You see that?"

Maggie did a double take, "That's yours?"

"Yup," Hannibal answered as he glanced at her, and added, "And these belong to the others."

"How did…" Maggie started to ask.

"It's a long story," Hannibal told her, "But you know, it's a very funny thing, when we presented them to Jean, she said that they were rightfully ours because we bled for them…well, she'd done plenty of bleeding herself, and for nothing. She almost died, and had no recognition for what she'd done."

"What _did_ she do?" Maggie asked.

He looked at her and said, "That's another long story, one for another time. Incidentally, how is she doing?"

Maggie guffawed and said, "Halfway to cloud 9, Murdock's got her so doped up she can get off the table and walk but she doesn't have the damnedest idea where she is."

Hannibal smiled and said, "Sounds like a satisfied customer."

They heard two vehicles pull up outside and Hannibal called to the next room, "Murdock, get Jean and let's get out of here, B.A.'s back with the van!"

"Be there in a minute, Colonel!" Murdock replied.

Hannibal turned back to the doctor and said, "Sorry to leave so soon, Maggie, but I don't think you really want all the extra company for another day."

She returned his smug grin and said, "Just try and come back sometime without needing me to patch somebody up, okay?"

"You got it," he said as he kissed her.

The front door swung open and Face stepped in, with B.A. not far behind him, "Alright Hannibal, we're back so let's get out of here."

"Where are your manners, Face?" Hannibal asked.

"I left them at the cleaners," Face answered, "Come on, Hannibal, you don't think Decker can put the pieces together that we didn't go to the hospital?"

Hannibal looked at Maggie and flashed a knowing smirk and said, "Somehow I get the idea that Decker's not the problem."

They heard Murdock groan and turned to see him more or less hauling Jean along with him as he said, "Alright, Colonel, I think we're ready to go, we would've been ready sooner but I had to check her pockets and make sure she didn't swipe anything else. Apparently a side effect of those pills is they make her prone to kleptomaniac tendencies, among other things."

Hannibal hunched down to get a better look at Jean and saw one eye rolling around in her head like a labyrinth ball bobbing and swerving down the lined path to avoid falling in the holes between the start and finish, and she had a goofy closed mouth grin on her face like the cat sitting on the biggest canary in the world. He looked up to the pilot and asked him, "How many pills did you give her?"

"Enough that we could get her up without her screaming bloody murder," Murdock answered, "That was the whole point of giving them to her in the first place."

"Never a dull moment," Hannibal noted, "Alright kid, if you…" he stopped when Jean nonchalantly stuck her hand deep into his pocket and started feeling around. He yanked her hand out and said, "If you feel up to taking a little ride, we're going to go home now."

For a few seconds he wasn't sure if she'd heard him, then out of nowhere she let out a loud, "FI-I-I-I-NE!" in response.

Hannibal kept a friendly smile but turned to B.A. and murmured to the sergeant, "Make sure you've got your keys with you."

B.A. took them out of his pocket and held them up for show, and high enough that Jean couldn't grab them when she passed him by.

"Bye, Maggie," Face waved as they headed out the door, and everybody echoed the sentiment on their way out. Maggie stood at the front door and waved them off as they got into the van and left.

* * *

"Are you sure you're feeling alright, Hannibal?" Murdock asked during the drive back.

"I've certainly had worse," he answered, "And it looks like it hardly took any stitches at all."

"Well don't be doing that again, man," B.A. said.

Hannibal turned to him and asked, "What?"

"Getting shot," B.A. answered, "You scare us like that again, Hannibal, and I'm gonna kill you."

Hannibal just laughed in response.

After a while, Hannibal noted how quiet things were in the backseat and he turned around to see what was going on and saw Jean had fallen asleep leaning against Murdock, with a big smile on her face. Murdock had one arm carefully slipped around her shoulders to hold her against him while she slept, careful not to touch her ribs, painkillers or no painkillers. Face sat beside them looking straight ahead with a somewhat bored expression on his face, more than anything it seemed obvious he was only being quiet to let them rest. It had been a long last few days and they were all looking forward to getting home and being able to just rest finally.

Once they got back to Jean's house, through the grace of her drug induced form of unconsciousness, Murdock was able to carry her up the stairs to her room to put her to bed, and likewise, Hannibal found himself with a one angry mudsucker escort to his own room.

"Really, B.A., don't you think this is a bit much?" Hannibal asked as they made the trip down the hall to his bedroom.

"No," B.A. answered firmly as he poked Hannibal in the back to move him along, "Maggie said the only way you're gonna heal right is to rest, and if you don't, I'm gonna put you to sleep for a week."

"Well, it's so nice to be wanted," Hannibal cynically remarked as he turned on the lights and went in.

"Get," B.A. said, poking him harder for emphasis.

"Tell me, B.A., have you ever considered becoming a registered nurse?" Hannibal asked as he climbed onto his bed.

B.A. only growled at him in response.

"B.A., bring me the phone," Hannibal said, gesturing piteously to show he couldn't reach it.

"What for?" B.A. asked.

"I need to make a couple of calls," he answered, "We've been AWOL from the film studio for three days, I want to see if when Jean and I have recovered if we're even going to have a job to go back to. And then, I'm going to call Amy's apartment and see if she ever got back home, just _how_ could an assignment in Jakarta last three months?"

B.A. heard a noise from the hallway and went to see what was going on. Face explained that Murdock wanted to get some ice on Jean's ribs to help with the bruising but they couldn't get her to hold still, and he had to go out and pick up a bag of ice. B.A. went into Jean's bedroom to see what was happening and he saw Jean squirming and thrashing around on the bed and laughing as Murdock tried to get her to stay still.

"I don't recall her ever acting like this before," B.A. said to Murdock as he helped tie Jean's wrists to the headboard.

"Well, B.A., I have a theory about that," Murdock told him, "When Jean was first taking those pills, she said it was just to numb herself, but she didn't take them in excess and she never took enough that she lost control, why? She was an assassin on the move, and she worked alone, she had nobody to trust so she had to always rely on herself, so she had to stay in control. Well, now she's got us, so she knows that if she lets herself go, because she's taking a stronger dosage because she's in legitimate pain this time, that she can because we're here to keep an eye on her."

"It better not become a permanent habit," B.A. said.

"I doubt it will," Murdock told him, "You can tell, she doesn't like taking them, I think she'd rather go crazy from the pain than do this."

B.A. looked down at Jean, her eyes were half closed but he could see them spinning around again and she was giggling under her breath like a Gremlin on nitrous oxide.

"Yeah, I can see that," B.A. said, and he poked Murdock and asked, pointing down to Jean, "The other crazies at the hospital like this?"

"On good days," Murdock answered.

"Man," B.A. grumbled as he shook his head, "How long you think she gonna be like that?"

Murdock shrugged and said, "Could be a while, or…it's possible that after a few days the pills are going to stop having an effect on her, and then if that happens we're _really_ going to be in for it."

* * *

After a while Jean fell asleep again and it was then when she wasn't moving that Murdock and Face had the best luck trying to ice down her ribs. The restraints B.A. had used to tie her hands and feet to the bed so she couldn't kick or struggle had helped some but they had the least trouble when she was completely unconscious and not aware of anything that was happening.

"You think this is going to help any, Murdock?" Face asked.

"Well it can't hurt any," he replied, "And it makes the most sense to do it _now_ while the bruises are still fresh _and_ while she's heavily medicated and can't feel anything as it is."

"Yeah I guess so, it's just that right now her ribs look like a boysenberry crop," Face said, "I guess we should all be thankful for the drugs."

"For now," Murdock agreed as he leaned over Jean and lightly kissed her on the cheek.

Face stood back and watched this as he debated whether he ought to see how Hannibal was doing, or if he should stay here incase Murdock needed any help. Finally he decided to leave, though he asked before he left, "You gonna be alright by yourself, Murdock?"

The pilot nodded, "I'll be fine, I got everything here."

"Alright, I'll see you later," Face said as he headed out the door.

Murdock pulled a chair up by the bed and sat down as he watched her sleep. He'd say one thing for the drugs, not only did they make it so Jean _could_ sleep, but she seemed to be in a sweet oblivion as she slept; if she was feeling any pain it wasn't coming through for him to detect, and he was something of an expert on that after all his time in the V.A. He checked the ice to make sure it hadn't melted yet and then resided himself to sit by her bedside and watch her as she slept. He leaned over, lightly gripped her hand in his and brought his head down so his touched the side of hers; he had no intention of causing her any further pain if it could be helped and he knew that this was the closest contact he would have with Jean for the next couple of days, so he reveled in having that much at least.

* * *

Hannibal had heard Murdock go down the stairs, and since he was presently without his own, big, mean nursemaid, he got up and decided to pay a visit down the hall to see how Jean was doing. It had been a day since they got back to her house and he'd hardly left his bed at all, reason being every time he tried to get up, B.A. or Face and Murdock were there to push him back into it, resonating Maggie's point of taking it easy. If this was taking it easy he'd rather be back in the army dodging enemy fire, at least then he'd be able to relax.

His shoulder let him know the minute he tried standing up and when he started walking. He knew that this was routine and within time would pass, but all the same, for the time being he was doing his damnedest to convince the others that he wasn't feeling any pain, though he knew nobody in their right mind would believe it.

Hannibal came to Jean's doorway and poked his head in, and did a double take, then laughed and said, "Well this is a new one."

He'd already known that Jean was up, he had heard her screaming earlier that morning, a definite sign that more drugs were needed. Well she'd quieted down now, though she was still awake, either that or she had fallen asleep with her eyes open. Jean lay in the center of her bed, her eyes halfway open and staring over at him, and two large pillows placed on either side of her beside her ribs.

"I thought people only did this with babies," Hannibal said as he went over to the bed, "To keep them from falling out of the bed."

Jean tried to move but it was a half hearted effort and she said, "Murdock doesn't want me to move, he thinks it's only going to make me worse."

"I heard you this morning," he said, "I don't know that he's wrong, he give you more pills?"

Jean nodded, and tried to sit up but only fell back against the pillows. "He spent all night in that chair, wouldn't get into bed because he was worried he'd roll over on me in the night and hurt me. I don't like this, Hannibal, it's starting to remind me of when he did this with _you_."

Hannibal smiled and said, "That's Murdock for you, very self-sacrificial."

"Yeah well I still don't like it," she told him.

"You think that's bad, try having B.A. for a nurse," Hannibal said.

Jean laughed and said, "I'll trade you, anything's gotta be better than having Murdock serenading me half the night with 'Jean Genie'."

Hannibal chuckled in response and said, "That sounds like him."

Jean tried to sit up again, also to no avail, and she asked Hannibal, "How's your shoulder?"

"Oh it's doing fine," he said.

Jean nodded her head to the nightstand where the pill bottle rested. Hannibal got the implication and shook his head, "No thanks, Murdock only got one prescription filled, you're going to need them."

"No I won't," she replied as she managed to pull herself up this time, "For one thing, there are 100 pills in that bottle, and for another, I don't intend to take them much longer."

Hannibal was able to pick up on the unmistakable tone in her voice, "Jean…"

"Hannibal," she replied in a tone matching and mocking his, "It's already going to be hard enough going off the pills now, I don't intend to wait until I'm hooked on them to try it. If that happens, then I'm no good to anybody. Think about it, Hannibal, what would you do if it was one of your men?"

"Honestly?" he asked, then answered, "I'd want them out of pain first and foremost, anything else I would deal with later."

"Alright, say it's later," Jean said to him, "What would you do?"

"Whatever it took," Hannibal told her, "None of them would cease serving a purpose just because they had a problem."

"But addiction is no ordinary problem," Jean reminded him.

"No, you're right, it's not, but that doesn't change anything," Hannibal said, "I'd still be there for them when they needed help, and do everything I could to give it to them."

"Alright," Jean seemed willing to agree with that one, "But what if you couldn't? What if no matter what you did, they couldn't get over it?"

"Kid, you don't get where I am by giving up on people," Hannibal told her, "If I can keep B.A. from trying to kill Murdock on a daily basis I like to think I can pull off just about anything."

Jean nodded and responded, "I suppose _you_ could, if anybody could."

When it seemed their discussion was over, Hannibal turned and headed for the door, but before he left, he heard Jean groan and let out a pained yelp, he turned back and saw she was trying to pull herself up. She pointed to the dresser and told him, "Get those papers on the top."

Hannibal went over to the dresser and picked up the letters from their previous clients and he looked at her questioningly. Jean managed a pained smile as she told him, "I told Decker if there was any way to get you guys a pardon, I'm going to find it…I don't know that it'll work, but it's worth trying, isn't it?"

Hannibal suddenly felt a baseball in his throat he was trying to swallow. He glanced over the letters again and said in agreement, "It's worth trying. But do you really think it'll work?"

"Can't hurt, can it?" Jean asked, "They're all willing to go to the mat, Hannibal, and so am I, whatever it takes, I'm going to find a way to get you guys in the clear."

He felt his heart swelling with pride, he said, "We certainly appreciate your effort, Jean, thanks. This means a lot."

"Don't tell the others, though," Jean told him, "I don't want to get their hopes up incase it doesn't work."

Hannibal nodded as he replaced the letters on the dresser top, "It'll just be between us."

"And Murdock," Jean said.

Hannibal grinned and repeated, "_And_ Murdock."


	21. Chapter 21

Hannibal had been half asleep when he heard the front door downstairs open and slam shut, followed by voices, and he had to strain himself to listen to them at first, one he was able to recognize as Face, and the other voice was a woman's, not Jean's though. No, she was still in bed hopped up on morphine, the voice grew louder and he nodded in confirmation, Amy Allen was back in town.

Two sets of footsteps came pounding up the stairs and Hannibal waited for the door to get thrown open, which it promptly was, and in rushed Amy, changed very much from the last time Hannibal saw her: her hair had grown longer, her skin was tanned heavily, gone were her more professional looking clothes and instead she looked like a tourist just back from a road trip. All of this however quickly went on the back burner as Hannibal noticed the panicked look on her face when she saw him.

"My God, Hannibal, are you alright?" she asked.

"Of course I'm alright, I told you I was fine," Hannibal answered, "Welcome back by the way."

She ignored his last statement and replied only, "You didn't tell me you'd been shot!"

"Of course not," Hannibal said as Amy came over to his bed and threw her arms around him, being careful not to bump his bad arm, "Where would the fun have been in that?"

"Face picked me up and told me what had happened," Amy told him.

"Oh he did, did he?" Hannibal looked past her and over to the lieutenant standing in the doorway with his arms folded and one foot crossed over the other.

Face stood there with a coy look on his face and he shrugged innocently and remarked, "What can I say? I thought she knew."

"A likely story," Hannibal said, then returning his attention to Amy he asked, "So how'd Jakarta treat you, kid?"

"Hannibal," Amy groaned as she stood back up.

"What?" he asked playfully.

"Hannibal!" Amy said as she absentmindedly ran a hand through her hair, "You are going to make me turn gray and wrinkled overnight, my first day back in town and I find out you got used for some nut's target practice."

"Speaking of nuts," Face said, "Where's Murdock?"

"Hmmm, he should've heard you guys coming up," Hannibal noticed, "Maybe he's knocked out too."

Amy looked back at him and asked, "What do you mean knocked out?"

"Well…" Hannibal sat up and started to explain, but he was cut off by a sudden ruckus coming down the hallway and he told Amy, "I think you're about to find out. Amy, we've got a friend I'd like you to meet."

The door swung open again and Jean walked in with Murdock right behind her. It was obvious from the look on Jean's face that she was higher than a kite on painkillers again, though she seemed strangely coherent as she said, "Hannibal, what's going on in here, what's that noise?" then she turned and noticed Amy for the first time and asked, "Who is this?"

Amy shrank back towards the wall when Jean leaned forward and practically lunged at her to get a look at her. Hannibal chuckled and said, "Jean, this is Amy Allen…Amy, there's really no easy way to explain this one, but…say hello to the ex-Mrs. H.M. Murdock."

"The _what_?" Amy turned back towards him.

"Amy, believe me, it's a _long_ story," Face said, "In short, this is the woman who owns this house."

"Oh, you mean you're not scamming it for the week like every other place you hole up at?" Amy asked.

"So you're Amy Allen," Jean said as she went over to the other woman and added, "The only woman in the whole world, with the present exception of myself, who can cool Face's lava like a bucket of ice water."

"What?" Amy asked, very much confused by this sudden incident.

Jean looked Amy up and down and commented as she felt her hand up and down the clothes she was wearing, "Boy you're a skinny one, what's the matter? Didn't the Jakartians feed you while you was over there?" Her hand found its way to the back of Amy's shirt and seemed to be testing the fabric, as if to see how easy it would be to rip it off, all the while Amy stood there as rigid as a petrified tree, waiting to see what was going to happen. Jean pulled her hand back around and stood straight as she looked Amy over again and she couldn't help commenting, "God, you're cute," she turned to Murdock and said, "You know Murdock, I'll bet if we put her in your clothes she'd look just like you."

Hannibal sat back in bed watching all of this in semi-amusement, he couldn't help feeling sorry for Amy, who didn't have a clue what was going on and seemed mortified by this whole thing, but he couldn't overlook the obvious humor in the situation either.

"Well this has all been good and fun," Jean said, then she turned to Face, poked him and asked, in what she must've thought was a whisper but people in Cleveland would've heard her, "What time is That Girl going home? I don't like strange people in my home and she strikes me as being stranger than most."

"Amy," Hannibal scratched one eyebrow with his index fingernail as he tried to explain, "Try not to take it personally, she's been heavily medicated due to a serious injury and the pills make her, how shall I put this delicately…a raving lunatic."

Amy laughed dryly and replied, "Well no offense, Hannibal, but I don't think I want to stick around and see what she's like when she's normal."

"Well you're in luck," Face said and shook his head as he explained, "Because she's never been normal."

Amy leaned over towards him and squeezed his hand in a death grip and said under her breath, "Face, don't leave me alone with these people."

"Oh really now, Amy," Face said in mock resentment, "You're not being fair, if the four of us can take three months of her poking and prodding us while you've been off chasing foreign politicians for a big scoop, I think you can be a fair sport and indulge them. If nothing else you ought to feel sorry for Murdock, after all he _was_ married to her for a time."

"That's right," Jean's words were starting to slur like she was drunk as she went over to Amy and grabbed both of her hands and said, "We were married and then he got smart and we're not together anymore, so now he's gotta get somebody new for him and I want that to be you, I think you'd be perfect for him, he knows you and you are just his type: normal. He deserves somebody nice like you that he'd have a good future with."

Jean squeezed Amy's hand and brought it up to nuzzle her cheek against as she added, "The way he talked about you and on and on and on at the V.A. when I went to see him, I knew that you were the right one for him, I've always said that you were. All I ever was was an ample opportunity at the right time, and I knew it. You're a very lucky woman, Miss Allen, I hope you realize that…Murdock's out for good this time, so you have my blessing to take him, I hope you two are happy and perfectly hideous children together." The last word was halfway out of her mouth when her head dropped and her whole body slumped back and fell. Murdock caught her just before she cracked her head on the trunk by the bed.

"Come on, Jean," he said as he adjusted his hold on her and lifted her up, "Time to get you back in bed before you totally conk out."

Jean's eyes were closed but she tilted her head back and said groggily, "Murdock, tell Billy to get off the bed, I told you he's not allowed up here."

"I know," Murdock replied, humoring her as he carried her out of Hannibal's room and down the hall.

"That was awkward," Amy said after a brief silence among the remaining people in the room.

"Like I said," Hannibal said, "She's heavily medicated, she's been spouting gibberish for a couple of days now, usually it's not as coherent as that."

"What happened to her, Hannibal?" Amy asked.

"During a fight some wise guy decided to play baseball with his rifle and her ribs," Hannibal answered, "She's been on Hydromorphone ever since."

The expression on Amy's face said how much sympathy she felt for Jean and she asked, "How bad is it?"

"Nothing broken, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt," Hannibal answered, "And those pills either make her goofy or put her to sleep, this is her during her active cycle."

"Man," Amy hissed, "Was that when you got shot too?"

"Yeah," Hannibal glanced at his shoulder, "I guess you could say we were a couple of bookends that day, the only injured parties during the fight, on _this_ side anyway."

Amy rolled her eyes and shook her head, "I miss all the fun."

"Well you didn't miss much," Hannibal told her, "It was no place for women."

Amy pointed towards the door, "What about her?"

"Like he said," Face repeated, "No place for _women_."

Amy turned towards Face and asked, "Exactly _how_ did you meet her?"

"Her parents hired us to find her a year back," Face said, "There's more to the story but to hear the full version you'd have to clear a week."

"No thanks," Amy replied, "I'm not _that_ interested."

"Well, kid," Hannibal said, "It's nice seeing you got back in the country alright, but I'm sure you have better places to be than here with us."

"You've got that right," she said with a knowing smile, "I'll see you guys around, Face, will you show me out?"

"Sure," Face led her out of Hannibal's room, but as they left, Amy asked him where Jean's room was and he pointed down the hall and said, "Follow me."

She did, and they came to the door and went inside and saw Murdock had Jean back in bed and he was seated in a chair by the bed reading to her from one of her Wizard of Oz books.

"How is she?" Amy asked.

Murdock looked up from the book and answered, "Asleep right now."

"Is she in much pain?" Amy inquired.

"When she's not on her pills she is," Murdock answered, "But I've been doing well to make sure that doesn't happen too often."

Amy went over to the bed and looked at the woman asleep in it. She looked back to Murdock and asked, "Were you _really_ married to her?"

Murdock nodded with a look of fond remembrance in his eyes, "Yes, three glorious months."

"Don't feel too bad about missing the reception," Face told her, "None of us were invited."

Amy turned to him and asked, "Face, would you mind leaving us alone for a minute?"

"Won't the neighbors talk?" Face asked teasingly, then, catching the death stare from Amy, he put his hands up in surrender and backed out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"Is what she said true?" Amy asked Murdock.

"Oh she doesn't think you're strange, she just has trouble meeting new people," Murdock said.

Amy shook her head, "No, I don't mean that."

"Well you _are_ looking a little on the thin side," Murdock replied as he pointed to her waist, which needed a belt to keep her jean shorts tightly in place.

"No, Murdock," Amy laughed, "She said that you went on and on about me when she visited you at the V.A."

"Well sure I did," Murdock said, "She'd heard about you briefly so I thought I'd tell her all about you."

Amy wasn't sure what to make of that, so she let it go and instead decided to approach another subject, "So you actually got married?"

"Uh…yeah," Murdock answered as if it had been a trick question, he tried to laugh and told Amy, "Jean thinks I married her just on a whim, and I suppose that's true in part, it was originally just a cover for when the MPs came nosing around. You know, if I'm married then they can't really ask why I was discharged from the V.A."

"So why aren't you still married?" Amy asked.

"Well, it's hard to explain," Murdock said, "Hannibal says it's because we were both too young and inexperienced, neither of us having been married before."

Amy got a humorous look on her face as she asked Murdock, "How did Hannibal take the news when you told him?"

"Well…I think he was as surprised initially as Face and the Big Guy were…but he seemed to come around to it pretty quickly. Only makes sense I guess, I mean we were already married, what could he do about it? Other than accept it and try to make the best of it that is." He laughed and added, "We had to take him to the hospital a while back, and when they put him under he told everybody that she was pregnant, _hoo boy_ was she mad at him."

"Is she?" Amy asked over a laugh, expecting it to be a joke.

"Naw," Murdock shook his head, "No, I regret to say there won't anytime soon be an army of little Murdocks running around."

"Oh well, better luck next time," Amy replied, then her demeanor changed and she said to him, "Murdock…about what Jean said earlier…about you and me?"

Murdock nodded as if he'd been anticipating the question, and he explained, "That was _not_ all just the morphine talking…she's been talking like that since before we got married. For some reason she thinks you and I would be very good together."

Amy laughed nervously, that was certainly not anything she'd expected to hear, let alone on her first day back in town.

"Anyway, she thinks I could do better than her," Murdock said as he sat at the foot of the bed and crossed one leg over the other.

Amy considered it and said as she sat down in the chair by the bed, "I think she's right."

"I think so too," Murdock replied, surprising her, but he quickly made a point of adding, "But I wouldn't want to, I like _her_."

"Why?" Amy asked over another laugh.

"Well…it's hard to explain," Murdock conceded, and he looked towards Jean as he told Amy, "Her manners certainly leave much to be desired, and Lord knows she's _not_ the nicest person who ever lived, she kind of prides herself on being a rotten human being, likes putting herself up there with Decker."

"She knows Decker?" Amy asked.

"That is the understatement of the year," Murdock told her, "But anyway…"

"But you love her, Murdock?"

He nodded, "Very much, though she certainly doesn't make it easy, that much is for sure."

Amy didn't get it, "Then why did you marry her? Why do you put up with her?"

"That's something else that's hard to explain," Murdock answered, "It's very funny, when we got hired to return her to her parents, we became her protectors, but the whole way she's taken it upon herself to protect _me_ instead, and you know something else, Amy? She can see Billy. You know how B.A.'s always going on about there's no dog there, well Jean can see him too, but the stubborn mudsucker _still_ refuses to admit the obvious truth that Billy is as real as you or I, even though he couldn't answer _if_ my dog is just a figment of my imagination, then why can _she_ see him too?"

"It's a good question," Amy agreed.

Murdock nodded and looked up at Jean and said, "She's a nice girl, she just doesn't like admitting it, but you can tell. She's put her neck on the chopping block a lot for us."

"Sounds like you really _do_ love her," Amy noted.

Murdock eased himself back onto the mattress so he lay half on the edge of it and half off, and lay alongside Jean, who was still oblivious to the people in the room with her, and the conversation that was occurring. Amy noticed the look in the pilot's eyes as he looked over at the unconscious woman and he replied, "Yeah, I guess I do…it's kind of funny, I never even told her until the day after we'd gotten married, but I think she knew."

Amy smiled and said, "I'm sure she did. It all sounds very interesting, Murdock, you'll have to tell me more about it sometime."

Murdock looked back at her with a smile and said, "You got it, chica."

Amy stood up and said, "I hope she feels better soon."

"She will, this isn't the worst thing that's happened to her," Murdock told her, his hand absentmindedly finding its way over her heart and gently rising and falling as she breathed.

"I'll show myself out," Amy said, "And I'm sure Face will show me the rest of the way to the door, see you later, Murdock."

"Bye," Murdock waved her off as she opened the door and left the room. Then when he heard her and Face's muffled voices through the wall, he turned his attention back to Jean and he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and said as he smoothed back some of her hair, "You hear that, Saint? I think Amy likes you."

* * *

Jean woke up later in the afternoon, and despite obvious signs that the pills had stopped working and she refused to take any more, she got out of bed and started walking around the top floor of the house talking about things that had to be done, that she had to get taken care of, all the while Murdock chased after her insisting he would take care of everything himself.

"Murdock, I appreciate your concern but I'm no cripple," Jean said as she pushed open the door to the storage room, "I can still do some things for myself around here."

"I know that you _can_," Murdock told her as he kept alongside her, "But I'm going to help you, and I refuse to take no for an answer."

Jean looked at him and tried to be cross but all she did was break out in a laugh and she said, "Alright, if you insist," and she went over to the window and opened it up.

Down below near the driveway they heard two people talking and looking out the window they saw it was Face and B.A. Jean called down to them, "Hey, what're you two monkeys doing down there?"

Both men stopped jabbering with each other and looked up to see who was yelling at them and both called up in response that they were just discussing something in the closest thing to privacy as there was to be found in her house. Immediately after that, Face felt something light hit him on the head and he turned to B.A. and asked him, "What was that?"

"What was what?" B.A. asked.

"Alright, Murdock," Jean told him, "If you want to help me then there _is_ something around here that you can do."

"What's that?" Murdock asked, then felt something hit him in the head too and he brought his hand up to cover the injured section.

Down below something hit the driveway and B.A. bent over and saw that it was half of a pecan with the shell still intact and he looked up to the tree nearest them and they saw a squirrel that had picked off another nut and was chewing the middle out of it. B.A. pointed up at Murdock who was still rubbing the side of his head and laughed, until one fell down and hit him as well, then he looked back up the tree and growled at the squirrel.

"When I got this place," Jean explained to Murdock, "The realtor forgot to tell me it came complete with a neighbor who occupies that nut tree. That's all he's done the last three weeks is climb up there, take the nuts out, eat halfway through them, then toss the other halves down on the sidewalk so I smash them when I walk out in the morning. I've tried throwing the nuts back at him but he just jumps to another branch and resumes business as usual and does it all day, so if you could find some way to get that bushy rat out of the tree _and_ this yard entirely, I would appreciate it very much."

Murdock saluted and replied, "You got it, Saint," and then without warning he lunged off of the stairway and managed to land in the middle of the tree.

"That fool just gets crazier every day," B.A. told Face.

"Well let's see if he has any luck with it," Face said, "At any rate it's got to be more entertaining than whatever's on the TV right now."

Jean watched from the window for a few minutes and saw Murdock shimmy up the tree and try calling out the squirrel in its native tongue. They all looked on in amusement as Murdock clucked and squawked and chattered like the squirrel and likewise started picking the pecans off and biting them through the shells, but he quickly decided he didn't like the taste of them, and instead of tossing them down to the ground he started tossing them at the squirrel to drive it out of the tree. Jean stayed and watched the spectacle for a couple of minutes, and then decided since the three of them were outside, this was an ample opportunity for what she had to do. So she stepped back into the room, closed the window and went down the hall to Hannibal's room and went in.

"Hannibal," she said as she went over to the bed, "I need to talk to you, I've got a problem."

"You are just as bad as the nurses in the hospital," Hannibal told her, "You want me to sleep and take it easy, so I do, and as _soon_ as I'm asleep, you come barging in wanting me to wake up. What is it?"

Jean shifted her gaze to the floor for a minute as she explained, "Well it's like I said, I've got a problem."

"Then you should've stayed married to Murdock," Hannibal told her teasingly, "You have that baby now and that kid's going to grow up without any last name and he won't be able to get any mail."

Jean groaned and covered her hand over her eyes and Hannibal couldn't tell if she was laughing or crying, either way she seemed near hysterics. She pulled her hand down and looked at the colonel and said, "You have no idea, Hannibal."

He looked at her and commented, "Well you're surprisingly coherent now so I'm going to guess the pills have worn off, so you probably know what you're talking about. So what's wrong, kid?"

She looked at him sheepishly and answered, "I don't think I want to get married to Murdock again."

Now Hannibal was confused, and he tried to think of what the answer behind this might be. "What, because of Amy?"

"Not just her," Jean said, "I've been thinking about the other day when you got shot."

"What about it?" Hannibal asked her.

She looked him dead in the eye as she answered, "Murdock should've been covering you and not worrying about me." She shook her head, "I'm not saying it's his fault you got shot, but he should've made sure you were alright instead of coming to _my_ aid. I said before I wasn't going to come between the Team and I have no intention to, I think it would be better if he and I didn't remarry."

Hannibal laughed and said to her, "Kid, you can't believe that that happened because you two were married before. When there are other people caught in the crossfire, they come first, we're second."

"You don't think it would be worse if we were married again?" Jean inquired.

Hannibal shook his head, "Murdock would've done that even if you two had never been married: because one, you were an innocent bystander caught in the middle of it, two, you're his friend _and_ three, you're a woman, all of that equals a perfectly natural reason why Murdock _would_ try to help you first."

Jean looked like she was having a migraine as she told Hannibal, "I don't want him being responsible for me."

"And why not?" he asked, "You always consider yourself responsible for protecting him."

"That's different," Jean said, "If something happens to me, that's one thing, but if something would happen to Murdock, to any one of you..."

Hannibal shook his head again, "I can think right offhand of six people who would be crushed if anything happened to you: your parents and the four of us."

Jean smiled sadly as she told him, "They haven't seen me in several months, I never remember to call, I'd be surprised if they even remember having me."

"And what about us?" Hannibal asked as he crossed his arms.

"Anything happening to me is nothing compared to if anything happened to you or any of your men," Jean said.

Hannibal smiled at her and said, "I get the feeling that's not the only reason you're having second thoughts. You remember meeting Amy."

Jean nodded, "She seems nice enough to me, and there are plenty more where she came from. If Murdock's going to spend the rest of his life married to someone, then he deserves somebody better than me."

"He doesn't seem to think so," Hannibal said.

"He's just being nice, one of his more endearing qualities," Jean responded, "I don't want him wasting his life on someone like me."

Hannibal shrugged and told her, "It's his choice. And, something I've noticed during this discussion is something that you're _not_ saying, do you know what it is?"

Jean nodded, "I know what you're getting at, and to answer, yes I still love Murdock, I would like to have him stay with me, but what you want and what's best for everyone are always two different things, aren't they, Colonel?"

"Unfortunately for the most part," he conceded, "At least you can be honest about it."

Hannibal saw her body start to sway, starting in her feet and working up her body, and he called her over to the bed and pulled her down on it beside him just before a wave of fatigue threw her completely off balance. She was breathing heavier now and she couldn't keep her eyes open, and Hannibal wasn't in any mood to try walking her down the hall to her own bed. Instead, he grabbed one of the pillows propped against the headboard and put it over his stomach and pulled Jean over so she could lie down with the pillow cushioning her ribs; he knew that by now her body had to be killing her to turn over in a new position for a change. Jean was mumbling something but her mouth was closed and it was all muffled gibberish, Hannibal wrapped an arm around her back and held her close as she slipped into unconsciousness, and a few minutes later he joined her.

* * *

"Well now I've seen everything," Face said as he, B.A. and Murdock walked into the kitchen.

"Face, I told you before that I could communicate with _any_ animal when need be," Murdock replied.

"I know, but I never thought I'd see the day you talk a squirrel down from a tree," Face said, "Exactly _what_ did you say to it?"

Murdock shrugged and said, "How should I know? I don't speak squirrel."

"You barely even speak English," B.A. told him, "Just crazy fool, and you getting more fluent in it every day."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Murdock asked, "That squirrel shouldn't _ever_ want to come back around here."

"Why didn't you go with it then?" B.A. asked him.

Murdock hissed like a cat and playfully swung his hand at him like a clawed paw.

"Hey," Face thought of something, "I wonder why Jean didn't stick around to see the results, she _was_ the one that wanted the little bugger gone."

"Maybe she went back to bed," Murdock thought.

"Or," Face hit on a darker thought, "Maybe she had another blackout and cracked her head open on the floor."

The three men looked at each other and tore up the stairs. Murdock reached the master bedroom first and threw the door open and went in; Face and B.A. followed and they found the room empty, so they doubled back and searched the other rooms. B.A. had checked Hannibal's room down the hall and he was still standing in the doorway when Face and Murdock came his way. B.A. turned to them and signaled for them to shut up and he pointed inside the doorway; the lieutenant and the pilot tiptoed over and looked in to see what he found so interesting. They saw Hannibal asleep in the middle of his bed with Jean lying facedown next to him with his arm around her. Both seemed to be sleeping peacefully so the three men quietly backed out of the room, closed the door behind them and headed downstairs to leave the colonel and their honorary corporal alone for the time being.


	22. Chapter 22

Murdock looked through the corner of his eye at Jean as she watched him from where she sat on the bed, with one of the pillows in a death grip in her arms and pressed against her chest; watched as he poured the two glasses full of wine. Hannibal had agreed three days was time enough for the drugs to leave Jean's system so there wouldn't be any reactions to the alcohol.

It was 2 o' clock in the morning, and this was the third night that Jean hadn't gotten any sleep, and it had shown long before now. But now…it burned his eyes just to look at her. Her eyes were a whole new shade of bloodshot with two bags turning into alligator suitcases under them. The Hydromorphone had stopped working three days ago; Jean had woken up at 3 o' clock in the morning, in pain, and in a newfound bout of insomnia. He'd sat up with her the rest of the night watching TV, figuring she would nod off sometime before the sun came up, but he was wrong. She'd gone through the day like a zombie, by that time she was tired but she still couldn't sleep.

Murdock hadn't been too worried by that, he'd had his own share of occasional sleepless nights followed by equally sleepless days. But when the next night passed and she still couldn't sleep, then he started to get concerned because he knew this was not normal for Jean. Once again he stayed up with her, they watched TV for a while, then he tried reading her to sleep but apparently she found Alice Through the Looking Glass to be too stimulating and so defeated the purpose. They also tried lying in bed in the dark and being quiet but that didn't have any effect on her either. In the middle of the night, not really expecting it to have any effect on her current sleep behavior, but figuring since they were both up he might as well tell her, Murdock told her about his fight with Cynthia Morrison and Jean just grinned at his recollection of what happened to her. When he finished summing up the gory details she only said, "I wish I'd been there to see that, see it hell, I would've joined in."

But the night passed and she still didn't get any sleep. Short of drugging her again, the next day he tried everything he could think of to put Jean to sleep; he'd even brought Face in to talk to her about his latest money plans based on a finance course he had taken a while back. It put Murdock in a coma but when he finally came around two hours later, Jean was still wide awake with half opened eyes and no signs of dropping off anytime soon as Face continued to bore her to death.

She'd been feeling the effects of her insomnia almost immediately but as time progressed it only got worse. First she just tripped when she walked and stayed down longer before getting back up again. She would talk and then wind down halfway through a sentence and close her eyes for a minute before opening them again and resuming what she was saying. Then she fell on the floor and stayed there, but complained of seasickness because the carpeted floor was rising and falling like waves on the ocean. That was when Murdock knew they had to get her to bed and do something to make her sleep.

Finally, Murdock had consulted Hannibal about the problem, hoping that the Colonel might have a solution he hadn't already thought of. Hannibal listened to the situation and in his usual slow and calm demeanor, explained to Murdock, "There are only two things outside of drugs that can successfully put someone to sleep, the first one is either one good strong drink, or much of a slightly less potent one."

"And what's the other thing?" Murdock asked.

Hannibal grinned mischievously like a naughty little boy and said, "If you were still married, I would suggest it."

So Murdock had opted for a little more wine to try sedating Jean than a little less, lot stronger option of whiskey; he picked up the glasses and turned to her and took pity on her. Three days without sleep and already she looked like she was about to die from it, and he knew that she felt every bit of it. He smiled a little, wanting her to see that he was on her side; he knew how a few days without any sleep could unleash the paranoid tendencies in people. He gave her one glass and she took it in both hands and just about wrapped her mouth around the whole top of the cut glass goblet, but she stopped at the last second and looked back up to him and said, "I'd rather have your glass."

"Why?" he asked.

Jean smiled coyly and answered, "More booze."

He told her, "They're both exactly the same," but he switched with her anyway.

Jean sipped the wine and said, "I need to sleep…I may die from this."

He smiled sympathetically and told her, "You'll be fine, you just need to get some sleep, and when you wake up you'll feel like a whole new person."

"Oh no," Jean groaned, "Now I have to get another name put on my deed."

Murdock laughed and said, "Hey you've got to get your rest, you remember Hannibal telling you about that Hollywood Halloween party he's going to?"

"Yeah," Jean replied, "Going as his own agent, I can think of better costumes."

"He said that we're all going," Murdock told her.

"All of us, how come?" Jean asked.

Murdock shrugged and said, "Safety in numbers I guess, anyway everybody there's going to be in costume."

"Murdock, in Hollywood all that means is going as yourself and seeing if anybody recognizes you," she said.

"Well, have you figured out yet what you're going to be?" he asked her.

Jean fell back on the bed and nodded, "What about you?"

"I'm still working on it," he answered, "In fact I think I may need to sort through your side of the closet and find something to borrow."

Jean pointed towards the closet and said, "Be my guest."

Murdock went over to the closet, opened the door and rummaged through everything on the hangers and he picked things out one by one, held them up to himself and tossed them around the room, exclaiming, "Ugly…out of date…this makes me look fat…I look like I'm my own Grandpa…Hannibal was right, you don't have a single dress in here, do you?"

"What do you want a dress for?" Jean asked.

"Well it's not to try and get a date, that's for sure," he replied.

Jean tiredly ran one hand through her hair and commented, "I would hope not."

Murdock caught a glimpse of her reflection in the full length mirror on the closet door and saw her movements were fewer and far between and her reflexes were slowing down immensely. Maybe she would finally fall asleep, if she would just stay asleep…he let out the breath he'd been holding onto when her eyes opened and she sat up again.

"I'm never going to get any sleep," she said.

"You will," Murdock assured her, "If I have to chloroform you like a hostage."

"Three days," Jean reminded him, "At this rate you may just have to." Something caught her eye and she turned to the side and looked like she'd seen a ghost. Without moving her head she called over to the closet, "Murdock, your dog is staring at me again."

"Billy, get off the bed," Murdock said without turning around, "I told you before not to bother Jean when she ain't feeling well."

"Murdock," Jean said.

"Huh?"

"Murdock, I just had a thought," Jean told him, "Why do you think B.A.'s always saying that Billy isn't real? That he's always saying there's no dog?"

"We been over this before, Saint," Murdock replied. He was going on about as little sleep as she was and he wasn't in the mood for repeating a previous conversation they'd had more than once.

"Murdock, what does B.A. always say when you bring up Billy?" Jean asked.

Murdock turned around and said, "He calls Billy an invisible dog, why?"

"Invisible," Jean repeated, "_Not_ imaginary…he never says Billy is an imaginary dog, but an _invisible_ dog…do you think there could be a connection to why he always gets high strung when Billy's around?"

A three-way light bulb went off in the pilot's head as a realization came over him, "You think B.A. _does_ see Billy and doesn't want to see him?"

"Could be," Jean said, "Otherwise why wouldn't Billy be _imaginary_ just like everything else you come up with?"

A devilish smirk came over Murdock and he started snickering like a school boy waiting for the teacher to sit on a tack. Jean could tell he was anticipating using this to mess with B.A. the next chance he got. Jean leaned back and stretched as she yawned but she lost her balance and fell off the bed; once again Murdock proved he would've done well as a catcher on any baseball team as he slid and caught her just before she fell head first on the floor. He groaned as he lifted her back up onto the bed and told her, "Keep this up and I'm going to have an extra large crib custom built for you, that ought to make sure you don't fall out again."

Jean didn't respond to that comment and instead she said, "Murdock…I'd like another glass of wine."

And who was to say she'd be any worse off for it? Murdock poured them both another glass and pressed hers into her hands to make sure she had a firm grip on it, he clinked his glass with hers and drank when she drank. When Jean emptied her glass and set it on the nightstand, she said, "Reminds me before we were married, 'member? At the hotel, after the diner was fire bombed…'f I wasn't sick it would've been a lot of fun."

He smiled and said, "I remember, I remember you got sore at me for pouring wine and whiskey down your throat every time you opened your mouth."

Jean smiled as she closed her eyes and recalled, "Said you was worse than a rehab doctor, back when they believed in overindulgence to lead to abstinence."

"And then you slept for two days," he recalled.

"Boy that would be nice right about now," Jean said with a sigh as she fell back against the pillows.

Murdock leaned over and kissed Jean on her forehead and he told her, "You'll go to sleep, and if you don't, you'll be in good company."

Jean smiled sadly and said, "No, you need to sleep, don't worry about me."

"Well now you know if that was possible, I would," he replied teasingly, "As it stands, I can't so I won't, I love you too much for that."

"You love me," Jean grunted, "And where's that gotten you?"

"I don't know _where_ it's gotten me," Murdock answered as he gently slipped his arms around her to hug her, "But I've sure had a lot of fun on the way to getting there."

Jean pushed him back and she pulled herself to sit up on her knees, "I'm going to die if I don't get some sleep soon."

* * *

Like Hannibal and Face, B.A. knew what was going on, he knew that Jean hadn't slept in three days and he also knew that Murdock hadn't either in trying to keep her company. He also knew that Murdock was executing every single trick he knew to try and help her and B.A. knew that they all meant nobody was going to get much rest for all the noise. Noise he expected, but it hadn't been any normal noise he'd heard as he passed by the door to the master bedroom as he headed to his own room to call it a night and go to bed. There hadn't really been any way to describe the sound he'd heard, except for:

THUNK!

A single, solitary sound, but there seemed to be an echo with it, or maybe not, maybe it had been two THUNKS so close together that they almost sounded like one, except for the last single vibration of the sound. He'd heard that sound plenty of times over the years, he knew what it was, he just couldn't place it, the answer was on the tip of his tongue. And then it hit him, that was the sound of a body hitting the floor. He stopped outside the door and listened, no other sounds inside the bedroom. B.A. even pressed his ear against the door to see if he could pick up any other sounds, but there were none.

"Murdock," he quietly rapped on the door, "You okay?"

No answer. He didn't like the sound of that either. He turned the knob and went in. The lights were still on and he could see everything in the room; and one of the first things he saw was the two bodies on the floor, that by now looked like one big mutation, a tangle of human limbs and two heads side by side, both with closed eyes, and both chests rose and fell in time with one another as even their breathing seemed synchronized. B.A. looked down at the two of them and smiled, he guessed even for someone as crazy as Murdock, three days without any sleep had to be his limit.

Now that just left the matter of what to do with the two of them. On one hand it would be very easy to pick them up one by one and put them in the bed; or he could probably even lift one up with each arm and walk them over the short distance and get them settled in. But, on the other hand, any sudden movements might wake Jean up and that was the last thing any of them needed, especially her; so he went with his next plan and yanked the pillows, bedspread and top sheet off the bed, then, carefully so he didn't wake either of them up, he slipped one pillow under Murdock's head and placed another beside him incase Jean rolled off of him in the night, and covered them both with the blankets, then he went back towards the door, shut the lights off on his way out and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Murdock felt something under him and he reached down with his hand and felt around underneath him for the foreign object and he found it, and was shocked awake when he felt fingers and somebody's hand. There was a hand underneath him, and when he woke up, and sat up on the floor, he realized that he'd fallen asleep on his own hand, and now it too was asleep and had no feeling all the way up to his elbow. He shook his arm and curled and flexed his fingers to get the blood circulating through them again, and when some feeling finally returned to his hand, it occurred to Murdock that he was on the floor instead of in bed. He turned to his side and saw Jean asleep on the floor beside him, or so he thought. As he turned over to get in a more comfortable position she asked him, "What time is it?"

He reached up and blindly fumbled over the nightstand to find the clock, and he pulled it down to him and turned it over every which way before he read the hands and tiredly answered, "Five o' clock."

Jean opened her eyes, barely, "A.M. or P.M.?"

"I don't know," Murdock answered, then, finding a little more strength in himself he tilted his head back and called out barely over a whisper, "Anybody else up?" hearing nothing he said, "Must be A.M."

"Then we can get a couple more hours' sleep," Jean said.

"Yeah," Murdock agreed, "But let's get off the floor."

"Hmm," Jean half snorted and said as she rolled on her side, "You'll have to carry me, I'm too weak to get up."

"I can do that," Murdock mumbled as he pushed himself up onto his knees and worked his way up to standing on his feet.

He put the pillows back on the bed and replaced the covers and then he bent down, grabbed Jean, stood her up like a life sized marionette puppet and pushed her over to the bed and pushed her onto it. She was already about asleep again, and it wouldn't take much for him to join her. Before he did though, he took notice of how while Jean was asleep, her jeans had gotten twisted to the side so much the zipper was practically on her hip. He grabbed the waistband of her jeans and yanked the material back into place, pulled the seam of her T-shirt back around to the side and then climbed into bed alongside her. As he pulled the covers up on them, he turned over and kissed Jean and said to her, "Goodnight, Jean."

Jean grumbled something through her closed mouth in response and didn't even move.

Three days without any sleep caught up with both of them, they didn't wake up again until 4 o' clock that afternoon. When they got up, Jean padded down the hall to the bathroom and took a shower, and when she came out wrapped in two of the towels, Murdock was the next in line and he turned the water on cold because despite sleeping for 14 hours, he still felt half asleep. He got dressed and went back to the bedroom and found Jean on the floor, still covered in the large bath towels, and she was laughing as she cradled one of his shoes in her hands, and Murdock was worried.

"Saint, you okay?" he asked as he crouched down on the floor beside her.

Jean looked down at his shoe and laughed again before she looked up at him and said, "Oh boy, Murdock, your shoes are _shabby_, they're so faded and worn out, so ratty…why don't you get a new pair? They _do_ still make them you know."

Murdock smiled and said, "I guess it never occurred to me, I've had these for so long, and they're not falling apart yet."

"Not _yet_ but soon," Jean swore, "You wait, give them enough time and they won't be sneakers anymore, they'll be Chuck Taylor spats." For some reason she found that idea hysterical and fell back on the floor.

"Somehow I get the idea we better get you back in bed," Murdock said as he bent down, grabbed her under her armpits and pulled her to her feet. He took his shoe from her and dropped it on the floor and escorted Jean back over to the bed and helped her get in to lie down and he covered her up. Then, a wave of fatigue hit him again as well, so he went around to the other side of the bed and got back in alongside her, before he hit the floor.

They lay like that for a couple of minutes, flat on their backs, perfectly still, when Jean turned her head to the side to see Murdock and she called over to him. He forced his eyes open and looked over to her to see what it was she wanted.

"Murdock," she said tiredly, "I love you."

Murdock smiled though he figured she was still probably hung over and not quite all together yet, and he replied, "I love you too."

Jean had a slight slur in her speech still as she told him, "I love you very much and I would like to be married to you again someday, just not anytime soon."

Murdock turned his body to the side to match his head and he propped himself up on one elbow and said tiredly in response, "Well that's fine, Jean, there's no rush." Somehow he knew that there wasn't anything wrong with her current frame of mind, she was as lucid now in her statement to him as she would be wide awake and stone cold sober.

"Oh yeah?" she asked, "What about Hannibal? Remember what you said about him?"

Murdock smirked and said, "He's already waited 10 years to become a grandpa, he can wait a little longer."

Jean laughed and she rolled onto her side and leaned over to kiss him. He placed his hands lightly on her cheeks and returned the gesture and rolled her back onto her side of the bed and raised himself up slightly over her so he could lean down and kiss her without applying any pressure to her ribs that were still recovering. After about a minute, exhaustion won both of them over and Murdock moved back to his own side of the bed, but before he got settled in to go back to sleep, he took one of the pillows from behind his head and placed it between the two of them as a partition and also to keep Jean's ribs from getting bumped by anything while they were asleep. Very quickly they both fell asleep, though still craving human contact, Murdock reached over in his sleep and gripped Jean's hand tightly in his; unconsciously Jean returned the iron hold on his own hand.

And that, Hannibal decided as he watched from where he stood by the slightly ajar door, was his cue to get out of there. With a knowing smirk on his face he quietly closed the door, picked up his bag and made his way over to the stairs, and down them where Face and B.A. were waiting.

"Well?" Face asked.

"They're fine," Hannibal answered, "Now we can get out of here, and go home."

"Hallelujah," Face dryly remarked, "It's about time."

Hannibal chuckled and said, "Oh come on, Face, you know you're going to miss them."

"I'd like the chance to," he replied, "It seems every time we leave this place we come right back to it."

"Well, not this time," Hannibal told him as they headed out the front door, "Like I said before, we were in the way too much the first time, now we've got to give them a break and leave them alone for a while. Besides," he added, "I have a sneaky suspicion that most of the time we've spent here wasn't just for their benefit, instead I have the idea that it was so I'd have four vultures hovering over me at all times to make sure I wasn't about to kick the bucket."

He wasn't able to read much from the sergeant and lieutenant's faces but all the same it said something to him that he wasn't far off from the truth, he grinned at them and said, "Murdock and Jean aren't the only ones who will benefit from being left alone for a while, I'm certainly old enough I don't need a nanny watching over me at all times."

Face opened his mouth to say something in response and raised his hand as he started to point in a gesture but B.A. slapped his hand down and muttered something to him to be quiet. They got in the van and left, Hannibal took a final look back towards the house and commented, "Somehow I get the strangest feeling that we're not rid of them yet," and already he was anticipating another late-night visit from them to his apartment, banging on the door with hammers and ringing the bell.

* * *

Murdock and Jean didn't come over to his apartment to see him that night. He waited, he anticipated their arrival and in fact when he went to bed, he laid down on his couch figuring he would be closer to the door that way when they started the ruckus announcing their midnight visit. But they never came, the bell never rang, there was no pounding on the door, and he fell asleep on the couch waiting for them.

He didn't see them the next day at the studio either; which in itself wasn't too odd because Jean wasn't currently needed for any of her scenes since one of the leading men she was supposed to star opposite of was out with a wrenched ankle, and shooting had to be postponed until further notice. Murdock didn't come in to work either, which also had a logical explanation because they weren't using any choppers either for stunts or filming from. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation at every turn to explain why they weren't anywhere to be seen, but all the same it sat heavy on both his gut and his heart.

When he got back to his apartment that night he went over to the coffee table where he kept a bare minimum of framed photographs, but one was a picture he'd had taken two months back when they were staying at Jean's house. He had wanted an updated photo of the two of them together, and they were obviously different from their beach garb at the hotel, but they still looked very much like that first picture taken of them. Hannibal refused to consciously acknowledge what was bothering him and instead entertained the notion that the pain in his stomach could be an ulcer. But he knew what the truth of the matter was, unfortunately he was about as successful at fooling himself as he was his fellow Teammates.

As he found a chair and sat down, he looked at the framed picture and with a sad smile he thought about how this must be what parents felt when their grown children moved out and went to college, or got their own home, _or_ when they got married and suddenly that heartbreaking feeling of losing one child instead of gaining another through the in-law process started to sink in. This was the _first_ time that his captain and his honorary corporal were alone together in Jean's house, without the three of them barging in or being in the way. It seemed ridiculous that it had taken this long to reach that point, especially since the marriage was dead now.

He thought back to when he was in the hospital, he remembered waking up and Jean was in the other bed trying to sleep, because Murdock hadn't let anyone sleep as he watched over Hannibal. He remembered Murdock's confession when the two of them were alone in the room, few moments in his life ever made him feel more like a father than in that instant when Murdock revealed his fear that Hannibal would die before he had a chance to be a grandfather. And he remembered all four of them standing over him later that night, all worried out of their minds that he was going to die; he also remembered how they had all grabbed him when he fell asleep, as if they were worried they were losing him that instant.

He also remembered before the hospital, as time passed he was able to remember bits and pieces from his delusional escapade; and he remembered being tied down in the back of the van, with B.A. sitting by his side the entire trip to make sure he didn't get loose and hurt himself. Also, he remembered Face, every step of the way, no matter what happened, no matter how horrible he had acted due to his fever, Face had always been there on the front line tending to everything, making sure Hannibal was resting, that he got the best treatment possible, also making sure he was never left alone in the hospital room during his recovery, lest they need to make a quick exit at a moment's notice. And he also remembered the way Amy burst in through the door and ran towards him as soon as she came to the house, screaming at him about making her worry herself gray and wrinkled. No, he didn't need any new kids to keep him busy or to make him happy, because he figured he would have his hands full with the five he already had for several more years to come.

Hannibal held off on calling Murdock for a couple of days, wanting them to feel the gravity of their newfound life alone from the others. When he did call, Jean answered, though he could hear Murdock in the background uttering things like 'ugly', 'out of style', and 'farm animals would love this'.

"Is everything alright there, Jean?" he couldn't help asking.

"Sure, we're fine, just getting ready for the big Hollywood party," Jean answered with a sarcastic laugh, "Murdock's trying to put some finishing touches on his costume."

"Oh yeah? What's he going as?" Hannibal asked.

"You'll have to wait and see," she answered.

"Then what're you going to be?" he asked.

"I'm not telling you that either," she said.

"Hey listen, kid," Hannibal wanted to make sure he had her attention, "Are you going to be coming in to work tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Jean answered, "I have to, whole reason I agreed to do this movie was for the money."

"Well I might have a little piece of good news for you," he told her, "I talked to the producers and I pointed out how fortunate they were to have you working with them given the extremes you go to in order to deliver a superb performance, and I managed to talk them into upping your weekly pay."

"Are you serious?" Jean asked.

"Yes, now it's $4,000 a week instead of $2,000, I figure that ought to help you fill up the mousetrap a little easier, that means what, in three weeks' time you'll have back the money you took out for Murdock's little surprise?"

He could hear Jean laughing on the other end of the line and she said, "I don't believe you, how could you manage to swing that?"

"Well you know I act as my own agent," Hannibal told her, "In order to do that I have to be pretty convincing, don't I?"

"Either that or catch the producers when they're drunk," Jean replied.

"Well that doesn't hurt either," he said with a knowing grin, "So tell me, Jean, how's the newfound singles life treating you?"

"Well there's certainly never a dull moment around here, that's for sure," she told him, "Lot quieter now without you guys here though."

"I would imagine," he replied.

* * *

Halloween night came and Hannibal, Face and B.A. went to Jean's house to pick she and Murdock up. As they got out of B.A.'s Rambler convertible, which it had been decided to use it tonight as it could provide just as quick of an escape and draw less attention to them than their trademark van, and went up the sidewalk to the porch, Hannibal could hear Face snickering.

"I'm still having trouble figuring out _why_ a vampire," Hannibal told him, "Unless you're just trying to plant your fangs in someone tonight."

"You watch, Hannibal," Face said as he readjusted his new teeth as they headed up to the door, "I'll bet you this'll scare the daylights out of Murdock."

Hannibal stood back on the sidewalk and watched as the lieutenant, dressed in a white shirt, black vest and pants with a cape of matching black on one side and blood red on the other, went up to the door, and commented, "Good luck."

Face pounded on the door with his fist and said in the deepest tone he could muster, "Open 'ze door, in the name of Count Dracula!" The door swung open and he lunged forward, failing his arms and screaming, "AHHHHHHHH!"

But it wasn't Murdock who had answered the door, instead it was Amy dressed in a blue gingham jumper, a white shirt, her hair in two pigtails, and a pair of silver shoes on her feet. She crossed her arms and smiled amusingly and said nonchalantly, "What's the matter, Face, something you ate?"

"Wise guy," Face replied as he walked past Amy and into the house to find Murdock.

"Shall I guess?" Hannibal asked as he stepped up and got a look at Amy in the light.

"Don't ask," Amy answered.

"That was your idea?" Hannibal asked.

Amy took a look at him with a curly black wig, large dark sunglasses, black clothes and a couple gold chains around his neck and she asked him, "Was it your idea to be one purple fur coat short of a pimp?"

"Ha ha ha," Hannibal dryly remarked as he also walked past her and asked, "Where's Murdock?"

"He'll be down in a minute," Amy answered as she held the door for B.A. to step in, "Jean's helping him with some last minute adjustments on his costume."

"So uh…" Face looked Amy's costume up and down again and asked, "Why Dorothy?"

Amy blushed slightly as she answered, "It was Murdock's idea."

"Murdock's?" Face repeated.

"Yep," Amy went over to the dining room table and picked up a wicker basket and said, "He said it was the perfect costume to accompany this prop."

Hannibal picked up the cloth covering the contents of the basket and saw a couple dozen eggs in it. "Why eggs?"

"Because eggs destroy the Nome King who tries to rule Oz for himself," Jean answered as she came down the stairs dressed in olive drab pants and jacket, black boots, a pale grayish green shirt with 4077 on it, yellow tinted sunglasses and a camouflage bucket hat, "And what's Halloween without somebody getting egged?"

"And who are you supposed to be?" Face asked.

Jean picked up a black doctor's bag off the table and answered, "Doctor Hawkeye Pierce, from the MASH 4077 unit."

"Hawkeye didn't look like that," Face told her.

"Did you ever see the movie?" Jean asked.

"…No," Face answered.

"Where's Murdock?" Hannibal asked.

Jean threw her head back and called up the stairs, "Come on, Murdock, they're ready to go!"

"Coming, I'm coming," they heard a voice answer from above, but it didn't sound like Murdock, it was higher and had an Irish twist to it. They looked up and saw Murdock coming down the stairs, but nobody recognized him in a long narrow black skirt, a paler black short sleeve shirt, a dingy gingham shawl safety pinned around his chest and arms, a short gray wig and a teeny tiny hat that looked like a black knitted potholder tied on the top of his head. The other three commandoes stood dumbfounded at the sight, and even B.A. did a double take at seeing him.

"What're you supposed to be, fool?" he asked.

"Me name is Old Mother Riley," Murdock answered in an Irish female voice, then he regained his natural tone and asked, "What about you, B.A.? What're you supposed to be? I mean what kind of a costume is that?"

"I told you before, fool, I don't do costumes," B.A. told him.

"Oh I don't know," Jean said as she adjusted her sunglasses, "He looks like somebody I saw in a movie once."

"What movie?" Hannibal asked.

"Oh you know, that taxi one where the guy says 'we the worst cab company in town, and we know it!'"

B.A. snorted and said, "Sounds like a lousy movie to me."

"Well I liked it," Jean replied.

"Alright, is everybody ready to go?" Hannibal asked.

"Yes," they answered.

"Hey Amy," Face pointed to the high tops Amy was wearing, "What's with the shoes? I thought Dorothy was supposed to wear ruby slippers."

"Silver slippers originally," Murdock reminded him, "But if we need to make a quick getaway we figured silver sneakers would be better."

"Ah."

"Alright, well…" Hannibal looked everyone over and said, "It might be a tight fit in the car but I think we'll be able to manage."

"Murdock and I can take my car," Jean offered.

Hannibal shook his head, "No, B.A., Face and Amy can sit in the front and the three of us can squeeze in the back."

"Fine, now that that's settled, let's go," Jean said, swinging her medical bag as she walked.

Face snagged her by the back of her jacket and asked, "What's _that_ for?"

Jean looked at her bag and answered, "Incase Decker comes and tries to bust up the party."

"Ohhh," Murdock said in an excited hush as he went over to her, "What're we going to do to him?"

"What any good surgeon would do," Jean answered, then gestured dramatically as she explained, "We're going to cut him open, rip his appendix out and then _throw_ it away!"

Murdock laughed like a banshee and joined hands with her as they walked out the door.

"You know, I get the idea we could go out looking like this any other day of the week and still nobody would notice," Amy said to Hannibal.

He shrugged and replied, "You're probably right, after all this _is_ Hollywood."

* * *

Two days after Halloween, Murdock packed his bag and relocated himself to Hannibal's apartment for a while. Hannibal was glad to have the pilot's company and it gave them a chance to catch up when they got home from work at the studio. They still saw Jean every day though Hannibal noted now that the two weren't living together how distant they acted towards each other; they'd exchange a few words and then each be on their own way for the morning shoot. Hannibal watched this go on for a few days before he finally asked Murdock if everything was alright between them. He insisted it was and the colonel let it go at that.

Murdock's stay with Hannibal lasted for two weeks, for the most part Hannibal found the captain's stay very enjoyable, though there were still some downsides; he'd about broken his neck half a dozen times trying to 'don't step on Billy!', but he'd rather take that than the nightmares that used to leave Murdock screaming in the middle of the night when he was on leave from the V.A. Once they got home from the studio at night they usually parked themselves in front of the TV with a few beers and watched whatever ball game or fight or movie was on; of course Murdock always supplied his own sound effects or commentaries or sportscasts so it never became dull and it was never as simple a thing as 'a quiet evening at home', and that was the way Hannibal liked it.

One night Murdock fell asleep early, during the middle of the late night movie, and after a few attempts of Hannibal's to wake him up failed, Hannibal decided it was safe to call Jean's house, because he didn't want the pilot overhearing the conversation.

Jean was still wide awake and perfectly coherent as she talked to Hannibal.

"How's it going over on your side?" he asked.

"Everything's fine here, how's it going with Murdock?" she asked.

"He's fine," he answered, "Though I am a bit confused, is there a particular reason why you two are avoiding each other like the plague now?"

He could almost hear Jean shrug as she said, "I just assumed since he was with you now that that was why he hasn't said much. Though for my own part, I'm just hoping that he'll stay with you guys for a couple more weeks, I'm figuring by that time I should have his new game room all set up."

"Ah, I see," Hannibal replied, "Well you don't have anything to worry about, next week he goes to stay with Face for a while."

"Yeah but how long do you think that's going to last?" Jean asked, "Any place Face scams is notoriously a bachelor pad, and you don't think he's going to get tired of Murdock hanging around in between he and his date every night?"

Hannibal chuckled and answered, "Well you have a point there, but I think they'll be fine for a while. Face has actually been looking forward to having Murdock's company for a while, and I know Murdock will enjoy it."

"That's not what worries me," Jean told Hannibal, "I'm just hoping I didn't go through all this for nothing."

"How's that?" Hannibal asked.

"I mean I hope I didn't kiss off $10,000 for nothing, now that Murdock's out of the house and back with you guys where he belongs, maybe he won't be so inclined to come back here."

Hannibal pulled the phone back from his ear and looked at the receiver as if he was trying to see through to the other end of the line and look at her. That kid would make a good mother someday, she already had the guilt part down pat and the real kick was Hannibal wasn't even sure that she was aware of it. There was no malice to read between the lines, she was simply stating what was going through her mind, but it still felt like she had his intestines in her hand and was wringing them like an old dishtowel.

"I wouldn't worry about that," he said as he looked in the living room and saw Murdock curled on his side holding his arms up like a dog did its paws as it slept, "Every good dog knows how to find its way back home."

"Hannibal," Jean's voice sounded more distant now as she told him in a definite tone, "He _is_ home."

Author's note: Only one more chapter to go!


	23. Chapter 23

Author's note: We've come down to the end. I hope everybody had as much fun reading this story as I had writing it, and I'm thankful to all the readers who took the time to review it.

Murdock stayed with Hannibal for two weeks, during which time they both had a good time and reveled in each other's company. Through the first week Murdock had commented on the colonel's apparent lack of a social life outside of his Team, he sorted through the photographs on the coffee table and noted that the only women there were Jean and Amy, and one of Maggie. He inquired about the good doctor but Hannibal waved it off, though Murdock wasn't entirely convinced; he knew there was _something_ going on between the Colonel and the doctor but he wasn't quite sure what, he _knew_ that any visits between the two were few and far between since Hannibal was always _here_ and on call whenever somebody needed him or needed to hire the A-Team.

More than once during the pilot's stay, he woke Hannibal up in the middle of the night to talk to him, about things that for one reason or another, he didn't discuss during the day. Usually he just sat at the foot of the bed while he talked to Hannibal though a few times he crawled in alongside him while trying to get the colonel's opinion on something. Without fail it always happened after Hannibal had managed to fall asleep, but he remained patient with Murdock and answered his questions as best as he could. In hindsight there didn't seem to be anything particularly serious or troubling that was keeping Murdock from sleeping, just a lot of little things built up on his mind that he needed to get out and share with somebody. Hannibal wouldn't go as far to say that Murdock would go crazy if he didn't, but, for lack of a better term, yes, that feeling could make _anybody_ go crazy, and he knew it as well as the next guy.

When Murdock's two weeks with Hannibal were up, he packed his things up again and this time went to stay with Face for an undetermined period of time. He got the grand tour of the new mansion that Face was currently using while its original owner was on vacation on the other side of the hemisphere; and Murdock couldn't resist touching all the expensive knickknacks the place was decorated with, much to Face's chagrin, as well as commenting on the wallpaper, the curtains, the lighting, the tiling of the floor and also what brand of baking soda was kept in the refrigerator. He also couldn't resist rifling through everything in the bedroom closet and taking out Face's suits one by one, running his hands all over them, and throwing them all over the floor just for the fun of seeing the disgruntled looks from the lieutenant as he picked them back up and went on and on about wrinkles and dry cleaners.

"See that's your problem, Faceman," Murdock told him, "You can't wear anything simple, just dress and go, like me," and he demonstrated by striking a pose to show off his clothes.

"That is because you wear the same thing every single day," Face replied.

Murdock made a face like a depressed dog and then regained his normal demeanor and asked, "And what's wrong with that?"

"Never mind," Face said as he hung his clothes up again, "Just try and stay out of the closet, okay?"

"No problem, there's nothing in there I want anyway," Murdock said.

* * *

Life with Murdock was certainly never boring, though it was plenty of other things. Face enjoyed having the pilot stay with him but some of Murdock's antics did start to wear his patience thin after a few days, and some became even more of an inconvenience than the dozen or so times he tripped or fell down the stairs whenever Murdock hollered 'don't step on Billy!' One was the time he caught Murdock trying to bathe in the dishwasher and drying his clothes in the microwave. Another was when he tried hanging himself by his knees on the clothes rack bar in the closet, and promptly ripped the whole thing out three seconds later as he fell to the floor. Then, one of the house's added features that amused Murdock to no end was the steam room; one day Face went in and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Murdock had hauled in a sun lounge from outside and was on it fully dressed, wearing black sunglasses and trying to steam a pack of hot dogs for lunch.

A few days later when Murdock found out that Face was free for the night, he ripped the sheets and blankets off the king sized bed and dragged them out to the living room and put them on the floor, explaining they could stay up late and watch the all night monster movie marathon. He parked himself in front of the TV and explained this was how he did as a child when he watched TV and that his grandparents finally had to have the carpeting replaced because he'd worn it thin from where he sat so long watching the westerns.

Face didn't remember the night too well but when he woke up the next morning his back was stiff, he saw scattered pieces of popcorn and empty soda cans on the floor, and…Murdock's bare feet practically sticking in his face. He smacked one foot and when that woke Murdock up, Face got up and started cleaning up the mess from the night before. When he got the covers replaced on the bed, Murdock came hopping into the room and hopped up onto the bed and bounced up and down on the king sized mattress.

"Murdock, will you get off the bed?" Face asked.

"Aw come on, Facey, how're you gonna know the springs are any good if you don't test them out first?" Murdock asked as he continued to jump up and down like he was the trampoline champion of the world.

"Murdock, get off the bed," Face told him sternly.

"Okay," Murdock answered, and jumped on him, causing them both to fall and hit the floor.

"Murdock, get off of me," Face said.

Murdock rolled off of him and said, "Nag nag nag, that's all you ever do, you should've been a wife."

"Speaking from experience?" Face asked.

"Never," he replied as he shook his head, and added haughtily, "I had a perfect wife."

The bedroom door opened and Hannibal walked in unannounced and, seeing the two of them on the floor, commented, "I can't seem to leave you boys alone for a minute, can I?"

"Hey Colonel," Murdock saluted as he smoothed down his hair and straightened his jacket out.

"What're you doing here, Hannibal? For that matter, how did you get in here?" Face asked.

Hannibal smirked and said, "You're not the only one good at picking locks you know."

"Alright, so what're you doing here?" Face asked.

"We've got a new mission," Hannibal told them, "I've already accepted the case on everybody's behalf, we're leaving this afternoon, and Face, I need you to get us a chopper and stock up on B.A.'s night-night drink."

"Where're we going, Colonel? What's the job?" Murdock asked.

* * *

Three nights later, Jean had just been getting ready to go to bed early when her phone rang, and it was Face all in a panic. He said that something had gone wrong on their mission and they needed her help and he was coming to pick her up and told her to be ready when he got there in a few minutes. He didn't go into any further details and as soon as Jean hung up the phone she grabbed a gun and went out to the front porch to meet him. A couple minutes later his 'Vette came to a roaring stop at the curb and he ran up to the porch to get her.

"What's happened?" Jean asked as she followed him back to the car.

"These six goons with guns ambushed us, there was a firefight, Murdock grabbed one guy's arm as he fired and so nobody was shot, but he suffered powder burns and he's been blinded."

"Not again!" Jean groaned as she jumped over the side of the car.

"He's alright," Face told her, "But he can't fly us now and we need a new pilot so he said to come and get you."

"That's what he trained me for," Jean said, "I just can't believe that this happened again!"

"I know, I can't believe it either," Face replied as he got them out of there, doing a U-turn and cranking the accelerator up to 100 mph as they got out of the neighborhood, "I'm just glad that we've got a replacement who _knows_ what they're doing this time."

Jean watched as black shadows blurred as they raced past them, she didn't know how long they'd been driving but at the rate Face was going it didn't take them long to get where they were going, which was the runway of a rundown airport that looked like it hadn't been used since the Concorde got its own movie.

"Here?" Jean asked.

"Yeah, it's just up ahead," Face said, "Follow me."

She got out of the car and did follow him, and then came to a sudden stop when she saw that the aircraft on the runway was _not_ a helicopter but a full sized jet. Her eyes widened in shock and she turned to Face and screamed at him, "A 747? A 747, Face!? I can't fly that!"

"It's not a 747, it's a Gulfstream," he corrected her, "And you've got to, Jean, we don't have any choice."

"Face, I never learned how to fly anything other than choppers," she told him, "I can't fly a damn jet!"

But Face was relentless, he grabbed her by the wrist and said, "Hannibal's already in the cockpit with Murdock, he's going to tell you two what to do since Hannibal's already done this once before, you'll be fine but we _have_ to do this, and we've got to get out of here fast because it isn't going to take the MPs long to find out where we are."

"Oh my God," Jean groaned as she considered their options, then she gave in and said, "Alright, I'll do what I can."

"Great, now come on," Face said as he jerked her onto the runway and they ran towards the jet.

Jean ran up the stairs leading directly to the cockpit and called Murdock's name as she reached the top and stepped in, and stood back in shock as she saw Murdock manning the controls in the cockpit and Hannibal standing behind his seat leaning over his shoulder watching him. Both men turned towards her and Murdock said, "Hey Saint, glad you could make it."

"What the hell is going on?" Jean asked.

Hannibal straightened up and took a step over towards her and said, "Jean Rhodes, this is your abduction."

"What?" she asked.

Face bumped into her as he heard the jet's stairs folding up and closing behind him and asked, "We ready to go, Murdock?"

"We have clearance, Clarence," Murdock turned to the empty seat beside him in the cockpit beside him and added in a different voice, "Roger, Roger," then he looked behind him and asked, "What's our vector, Victor?"

"Hannibal," Jean growled as her hands started to curl up into fists, "You better start explaining what the hell is going on and you better do it fast or you're going to be the first person to get brutally murdered in between time zones."

"Now calm down, Jean," Hannibal calmly replied as he explained, "We're taking a little trip and we wanted you to go with us."

"Go where?" Jean asked.

"I think we better continue this discussion in the next room where we can get strapped down," Face said, "We're about to leave ground."

But Jean blocked his way and said, "Go where?"

"We're going to New York," Hannibal told her, "Now come on." He grabbed her by the arm and jerked her towards the curtains separating the cockpit from the cabin, "Murdock, you got everything here?"

Murdock gave them the 'okay' sign and said, "Roger Wilco, over and out, Colonel."

"Come on, Jean," Face said as he helped shove her along, "Let's go sit down."

"I don't _want_ to sit down, I want answers," she said, "What's going on? Why're we going to New York?"

The three of them made a bumpy path down the aisle where Jean saw B.A. knocked out and tied up in one seat, and sitting next to him…

"Hi," Amy waved.

"What're you doing here?" Jean asked.

"Insurance," Face answered.

"Insurance?" Jean repeated.

"Yeah," Hannibal answered as he pushed Jean into another seat and got her buckled in, "We figured he'd be less inclined to kill us if she was around when he woke up."

"You want insurance you should've left Barbie at home and just brought me," Jean said, "I've got an insurance plan to beat them all."

"What's that?" Face asked.

"Very simple," Jean said, "Whenever B.A.'s trying to kill you, just run behind me, and I will remind him of this ugly little incident!" she pointed to the side of her face that had been black and blue for several weeks following his accidental KO'ing her when he was trying to kill Hannibal instead.

Amy didn't get it though. "What's that mean?"

"That's another fun thing you missed out on," Face dryly answered.

"And good thing," Jean added, "If B.A. would've punched her instead he would've _killed_ her."

"Ladies and gentlemen this is your captain speaking," they heard Murdock's voice over the speaker, "We are now leaving the ground and are en route from Los Angeles to New York, New York, the city so nice they named it twice and if you think that's ridiculous, just wait'll you see the in-flight movie."

"Alright, Hannibal," Jean said, "Now you tell me what's going on or B.A. waking up's not going to be the thing you have to worry about."

"If you insist," he said, then he turned to his lieutenant and asked, "Face, what day is this?"

"Well it's still before midnight so that makes this Tuesday," Face answered.

"Meaning tomorrow's Wednesday, right?" Hannibal asked.

"Yep, all day," Face told him.

"You see, Jean," Hannibal explained as he turned to her, "This is the last week of November, meaning the day after tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and what we are doing is kidnapping you to take you home and see your parents for the holiday."

Jean did a double take, "Are you serious?"

"I was never more serious," he answered.

"Why?" she asked.

"Well it's been, what, five months since you've seen them?" Hannibal asked, "Seemed like a golden opportunity."

"But why are _you_ guys coming too?" she asked.

"I happen to like your parents," Hannibal said with a hint of cynicism in his voice, "Besides, I thought Amy might want to meet them, and vice versa."

"Now remember, Amy," Face told her, "As far as the Rhodes' are concerned, Jean is not now, nor has she ever been married, especially not to Murdock."

"I get it," Amy replied, "But I _don't_ get it."

"You will," Hannibal said.

"So when do you think we're going to get there?" Jean asked.

"Well Murdock says he can get us from coast to coast between 6 and 7 hours," Face said.

"In L.A. time or New York time?" Jean asked him.

"I figure we ought to be in the Big Apple by 8 o' clock tomorrow at the latest," Hannibal told her.

"There's just one foreseeable problem," Jean told him.

"Oh? What's that?" Hannibal asked.

"Never mind how do you keep a dummy in suspense for 24 hours," Jean pointed over to B.A., "How do you keep a big angry mudsucker unconscious for six hours? One's usually hard enough isn't it?"

"Ordinarily that may be true," Hannibal answered, "But I've been planning ahead on this. You see the other day B.A. was unaware that his milk had been laced with some crushed up No Doze pills, so he's been awake and alert for close to 36 hours, now naturally after a stint like that on his feet, he's got to be exhausted, and another drink laced with sleeping pills can only help."

"What if he wakes up halfway there though?" Jean asked, "You carrying a 2 by 4 in your pocket or something?"

"Something like that," he responded with a smirk.

"Given how hard his head is," Face interjected, "I suggested we try a hammer next time but Hannibal didn't like that plan."

"Of course not," Jean replied, "He'll break the hammer." She unbuckled herself and stood up and said, "I'm going to the cockpit to see if Murdock needs a second pair of eyes."

When she disappeared past the curtains, Amy looked over to Hannibal and said, "This is really nice what you're doing for her, Hannibal, but why _are_ you doing it?"

"Well it gets us out of Decker's path for a while," Hannibal said, "He won't have any idea where to look for us. Besides, our families are all gone, except for B.A.'s mother, but she's out of town for the week, so we figured we might as well spend the day with _somebody's _family and we know her parents can be trusted."

Amy nodded in understanding but pointed out, "And you don't think they're going to be a little surprised that their daughter suddenly comes home after being gone for half a year?"

"I spoke to them already, they know she's coming but they think she's coming on Thursday, so we get there a day ahead of schedule, they'll still be surprised."

"And…" Amy smiled like she was trying not to laugh as she asked Hannibal, "They know we're all coming?"

"I told her mother we'd be coming with her, their house isn't very big but she said they would find a place to put all of us up. I imagine these last couple of weeks have given Jean plenty of practice in sleeping alone again; her parents don't know that she was married, and I don't think they're old enough to know she's had a man over 10 years her senior sharing her bed for the last few weeks."

"Fair point," Amy said, "Are they _ever_ going to know about it, though?"

"I doubt it," Hannibal answered, "I imagine these aren't the sort of things you discuss with your mother over imported coffee."

Amy nodded and replied, "Gotcha."

* * *

"As soon as we land, I'm going to kill Hannibal," Jean told Murdock, "Making me worry the whole way out here and _then_ finding out it's not a chopper I'm expected to fly, it's a damn Gulfstream, and for that matter, _why_ a Gulfstream?"

"Well for one thing it's more believable that one of these babies would be a chartered flight than a Boeing," Murdock answered, "These are not exactly the luxury liners of the air, at best they only hold 16 people so it's still a relatively small aircraft, so we didn't have to go through as many channels to secure it for our trip."

"So exactly how _did_ Hannibal come up with this crazy plan?" Jean wanted to know, "I thought you guys were off on another mission."

"We were," Murdock answered, "Local job, we got finished ahead of schedule and Hannibal told Face to trade in the chopper for a jet because he said we were going to New York."

"I'm _still_ going to strangle him when we touch down," Jean told him.

Murdock took one hand off the controls and waved it off and said, "Don't worry about him, we'll have plenty of chances to fix his little covered wagon."

"You mean red wagon," Jean said.

"They didn't have them when he was a kid," Murdock told her, "Anyway, the Colonel's not the only one with bright ideas, you want to have a little fun with them now?"

"Sure, but how?" Jean asked.

"Watch," Murdock set the controls for auto-pilot and told her, "You stay here, I'll be right back." He got up from his seat and strolled out of the cockpit whistling to himself. Jean watched him disappear past the curtains and waited; there was a brief ruckus from the cabin but she heard somebody coming her way and saw the curtain draw back and saw Face escorting Murdock back into the cockpit.

"Please tell me _you're_ not flying this thing," Face said when he saw Jean sitting at the controls.

"You see somebody else up here?" she asked.

Face glared at Murdock and pointed to the empty seat up front and said, "Murdock, get!"

"Alright, alright," Murdock scowled as he strode back over to the cockpit, "Geez, what's his problem?"

Jean shrugged innocently as Murdock sat down beside her again and regained control of the plane. Once Face disappeared back to the cabin, she looked over at the pilot and said, "Hey Murdock."

"Yeeees?" he asked as he turned to look at her.

Jean turned to look behind her to make sure they were alone and she told him, "Don't let the others know this, but I'm really thankful for you guys doing this for me."

Murdock smiled at her and said, "Nothing to it, darling."

Jean looked at him through the corner of her eye and said, "I get the feeling you knew in advance that this was going to happen."

"Now what would make you say that?" Murdock asked.

"Oh, I'd say by how ever since you went back with Hannibal, you've kept quite a distance from me…I didn't figure it was just because you didn't want our life together dripping all over Hannibal's apartment."

Murdock couldn't resist giggling and he said, "Well, I think Hannibal's right, your parents have had to come to terms with a lot of things, but us together ain't one of them. So I imagine when we stay the night, it'll be the four of us piled in the living room, and you and Amy sharing the bed in your old room."

Jean looked disgusted by that thought and commented as she crossed her arms, "And it'll be just my luck, she's probably the kind of woman that has a two hour nightly beauty ritual and who sticks her cold feet into the other side of the bed and consequently into my back, and she probably snores like a freight train and hogs the covers."

"Well Face does that all the time and I _still_ bunk with him," Murdock told her.

"Fine," Jean said, "Then Amy can sleep with Face, and I'll join you in the dogpile on the floor."

Murdock laughed and returned his attention to the night sky in front of him and said, "Patience, my dear, it's only for a couple of days, and then when we get back to L.A. things will be back to normal, or…as normal as they can get for a crazy person."

"That mean you'll be coming back with me?" Jean asked.

"Of course," he said with a nod of his head.

Jean grinned as if she was showing her teeth for the first time in her life and she said, "Good!" and reached over to hug him.

Murdock squirmed in her grasp and warned her about distracting the pilot; Jean sat back down in her own seat and told him, "I love you."

Murdock smiled and reached over with one hand to pat hers and he replied, "I love you too, darling."

"So when do you figure we'll be in New York?" she asked.

"I figure before 8 tomorrow morning," he answered.

"It's an all night flight, are you sure you'll be able to make it?" she asked him.

"Sure," Murdock told her, "No problem."

"Have you ever done this before?" Jean asked.

"Not often," he confessed, "But I have and I will again, you have nothing to worry about."

"I have the fullest of confidences in you, Murdock," Jean said.

"It's the plane I don't trust," they said in unison.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Don't worry, Saint," Murdock told her, "By the time we head back, I'll have _you_ flying this bird."

"How reassuring," she dryly remarked.

* * *

Hannibal still had his watch set for Los Angeles time, and according to it, it was only 12:30, but by this time he was sure they had to have already crossed two time zones. He quietly walked to the cockpit and drawing back the curtain, showed himself in and went up to the pilot to see how things were going.

Murdock whispered as he answered, "Right as the rainforest, Colonel, nothing but smooth sailing so far and I anticipate it'll remain such until we reach New York City."

"That's fine," Hannibal said, then turned and noticed Jean was curled up in the other seat and fast asleep. He turned back to Murdock and asked, "How long's she been asleep?"

"About an hour," Murdock told him.

Hannibal looked at her again and concluded that her current position couldn't be comfortable by any means. "You want me to take her back to the cabin with the others?" he asked.

Murdock nodded, "Sure."

Hannibal quietly unbuckled her seat belt and slipping one arm behind her back and the other under her legs, lifted her up out of the seat and carried her out of the cockpit and back to where the others were likewise blissfully unconscious for the night. He got Jean settled in one of the empty seats and strapped her in incase they hit some bumpy air, then he looked back at the others. B.A. had started to wake up a short while ago so Hannibal gave him a little tap on the head with a custom made blackjack he'd disguised as one of his cigars. With that taken care of he figured they'd have about another hour before the sergeant started to come to again. In the two seats beside him, Face and Amy had fallen asleep leaning against each other, and Hannibal suspected it was also partly to try and conserve body heat. He wasn't sure what the temperature was supposed to be inside of the jet but he noted it _was_ getting cold, they were definitely out of California now.

During the flight, Amy had commented, as if they didn't already know, that going from Los Angeles to New York in the end of November was a climate shock to say the least, and estimated that by now the temperature high for the day must be 50 degrees where they were going. Hannibal pointed out that this wasn't their first time on the east coast, and though he had never been a member of the scouts a day in his life, he always came prepared. They had all packed for a cold wave before they got on the plane, all of course except Jean because she didn't know she'd be going anywhere, but he'd gotten a coat packed away for her as well.

And now, Hannibal pulled two large duffel bags out of their hiding place under one of the seats and opened them up and pulled out a couple of heavy blankets, he draped one over Face and Amy like they were a conjoined statue being prepared for its unveiling. Then he tucked another one around the edges of the unconscious staff sergeant, even though it was obvious he was too out of it to feel anything. He took a third blanket out and covered Jean with it and when he was satisfied that she would be warm enough, he headed back to the cockpit and asked Murdock, "Need a fresh set of eyes, Captain?"

"I can use the company," Murdock replied, reading between the lines of Hannibal's question.

"Are we making good time?" Hannibal asked.

Murdock scoffed and answered, "Hannibal if we made any better time we'd be an X-15 rocket."

Hannibal looked at his watch again and asked, "What time zone do you think we're currently in?"

"Mmmm," Murdock looked out the windshield and said, "If I had to guess, we must be between Mountain and Central time now."

"Meaning at best it's only 2:30 in the morning," Hannibal said, "You sure about that landing time?"

"Give or take, Colonel," Murdock answered, "Don't worry, the sun will be up before we get there, we won't be waking anybody up."

"That's good," Hannibal said, "We're already catching the Rhodes' off guard a day in advance, they don't need this kind of wakeup call."

Hannibal noted the pilot had gone eerily quiet and he glanced over and saw a distant look in Murdock's eyes and inquired, "You alright, Murdock?"

Murdock came back to reality and nodded, explaining, "I was just thinking, first time I made this flight, it was to get Jean's parents to see her in the hospital before she died, and the last time I made this flight, I was taking Jean and her mother home, and she stayed there…this time when we leave she's going to be coming back with us."

Hannibal nodded in understanding and said, "Amazing how much things can change within a year."

Murdock nodded in agreement. He thought back to how much his own life had changed in the last year, undoubtedly his had seen the most changes out of the four of them; from certifiable, institutionalized crazy man who took his freedom wherever he could find it in occasional week long leaves from his hospital room, to 'normal', discharged person who could come and go when and wherever he pleased, and from there to marriage, then annulment, and shot directly onto the hotplate of the army's radar, and now this, and he started to wonder how much things could change within another year. The anticipation made him grin and he started to howl, despite the four passengers asleep back in the cabin.

Hannibal listened for the various noises of the others coming to, but somehow everybody back there seemed to still be asleep. He turned to Murdock and said, "Suppose if we're going to do this, we might as well do it right," and he reached inside his jacket and took out a Walkman and yanked the headphones off and asked Murdock as he pressed the play button, "The Rolling Stones, right?"

"Does the devil hope you guess his name?" Murdock asked with a smirk on his face as the music started.


End file.
